Pursuit
by Mediancat
Summary: A sequel to A Kiss Before Dying, so it's AU. While the Scoobies and everyone else sort out their postChosen lives and plans, Kennedy has plans of an entirely different sort.
1. The Hunt Begins

Author's Note: This is a sequel to my story "a Kiss before Dying," in which Warren shoots and kills Willow and not Tara. As a consequence of this -- the full details are available in the named story and I'm not going to repeat them here -- Andrew and Jonathan stayed in jail (so Jonathan lived but Andrew never joined the fight against The First); Cordelia rejected Skip's offer to become a Higher Being, and killed him when he insisted (thus, there was no Beast and no Jasmine, Cordelia never took up that affair with Connor, she and Angel became a couple, Lilah and Gavin both lived and the LA offices of Wolfram & Hart stayed firmly under the control of the Senior Partners); and Giles asked Anya and Kennedy to both stay with Tara while she did the Slayer-empowering ritual, so Anya survived but Chao-Ahn did not.

Thus, continuity's mucked all to hell and I'm feeling free to ignore most of the hints dropped in Angel Season 5 -- though not all of them.

And yes, I'm actually going to try to pull this 'ship off. Wish me luck.

Disclaimer: Joss owns all of these characters. I own only the plotline.

X X X X X

Everyone came to see me while I stayed in the hospital for a couple more days; everyone who wasn't already badly injured, like Rona and Robin Wood. As near as the doctors could tell I was suffering from nothing more than a mild concussion and severe exhaustion; as though I'd not only been up for five days straight but had spent that time running marathons.

I knew, though, that I was lucky to be alive.

My hair, as near as I could tell, was now permanently red. Anya mentioned that during the Slayer activation spell my hair had gone white for a few moments, then suddenly had begun to darken, turning a bright red by the time the spell was at its peak.

It hadn't faded since. And it was exactly -- exactly -- Willow's shade.

Something else I'd noticed: My magical power levels had increased about tenfold. I could have moved my bed simply through my own telekinesis, if I'd wanted to, almost without trying. If I'd concentrated, I could have managed a truck or two.

Willow had given me more than her hair color. She had given me her power.

Even from beyond the grave, she was still looking out for me.

I'm not glossing over this -- really, I'm not. But since I'm still in the hospital, I don't think this is the time to go doing any experiments.

Like I said, everyone visited -- Buffy, Giles, Faith, Xander, Anya, Dawnie, Vi, even Angel and Cordelia, who seemed very much in love, but frustrated.

I wondered if anything could be done about that curse. The two of them had done so much for me and Buffy after Willow'd been shot; maybe it was time for things to go their way, for a change.

But there were three visits that really stood out.

The first was from Giles. In the four days since the Sunnydale Hellmouth had collapsed on itself, Giles had not been sitting back toasting his victory; he'd been making phone calls around the world, to see what the situation with the Watcher's Council was.

Most of what he termed the "Old Guard" of the Council had died in the London explosion -- but not all of them. They were trying to get a new one organized -- a better one, taking the best of the old ways and mixing them with the new. They were slowly beginning to make plans, and Giles wanted me to be part of them. I agreed.

A surprise was that Buffy and Dawn, at least for the moment, wouldn't be joining them. "I'm not the only Chosen One anymore," she explained to me. "I want to take a vacation. A long vacation where, for the most part, I can just be Buffy Summers for a while. I'm not saying that if I hear someone yelling for help, I'm not going to run to help, but --"

I smiled. "Buffy, it's, it's okay. Really. You don't need to explain yourself to me. Take the time off. You've earned it."

"It's good to hear someone just accept the situation," Buffy said. "I'm either getting 'how could you do that" or frosty silences from pretty much everyone else."

"They understand," I said. "It may take them some time, but they'll understand."

The second visit was from Xander and Anya. Wherever Giles ended up, they'd get there . . . eventually. They came in together and Anya held up her left hand.

Which had a sizeable diamond ring on the appropriate finger.

"So --" I prompted.

"After everything that happened I wasn't going to let him get away again," Anya said. "So the day after we got here I asked him to marry me. When he said yes --"

"How could I not?" Xander said happily.

"--I immediately drove us like maniacs to Nevada--"

"We have the speeding tickets to prove it --"

"--where we made everything good and legal. I didn't have to threaten to eviscerate him once to stop him from backing out."

"Not going to back out this time," Xander said. "I screwed up big-time the first time around and I'm not about to make the same mistake twice."

I couldn't have been happier for them. And the reason they weren't going to show up immediately, of course, was a honeymoon.

"Whoever invented computerized banking, I want to worship them," Anya said. "We still have our money that we'd saved up in Sunnydale -- enough for the honeymoon and some nice prudent investments. Or maybe some small-cap stocks. I'm not --"

Xander silenced her with a kiss. "Smart girls are so hot," he said when he pulled clear.

"Uh-huh," was Anya's only response.

The third and most surprising visit came from Kennedy. Not that it was a surprise that she'd come; we'd bonded a bit over the last several months. Even if I couldn't be the bed partner she occasionally wanted -- I didn't do casual, and when she's shown up it had been too soon for me anyway -- we had more in common that our orientation: we both liked mysteries (she introduced me to Robert Parker, I introduced her to Steven Saylor and Marcia Muller), we had some shared tastes in music -- there was actually very little music I didn't like, except for gangster rap and redneck country -- and we both liked Italian food, though she was kind of disappointed that I couldn't share her love for shrimp fra diavolo.

"Hey, Tara," she said when she came in. "Thanks for the new and improved muscles." She spent a minute or so doing Hulk Hogan-style poses, and I laughed harder and harder with each new pose.

"Did, did you do well down in the pit?" I said when I was done.

"I kicked ass," she said. "Okay, not as much as Buffy and Faith, but I think I held my own."

"Knew you would."

She grinned at that. "Yeah, you did, didn't you?" After a second. "You have a way about you, you know that? You fill everyone around you with confidence -- not by the speeches Buffy tried, though they have their place, but by simply letting them know how great they are being themselves."

"You don't need anyone filling you with confidence, Kennedy," I said. "You're incredibly sure of yourself."

"A lot of other people would say I was full of myself," Kennedy said.

"Well, it is true; 'modest' is never a word that's going to be used to describe Jacqueline Olivierez Kennedy."

"You do remember that it means your death to tell anyone else my name, right?" She sat down on the edge of the bed. "I got called Jackie O all the way through high school."

I said, "It's your secret to tell or not. I reserve the right to torture you with it in private, though."

"Fair enough," she said. Then her face got serious. "You know, Tara," she said. "What you did -- that was one of the bravest things I've ever seen."

"All, all I did was cast a spell," I said. "You and the other Slayers were the ones down their facing off against the Turok-Han. You were brave."

"Yeah, we were," she said. "You were braver. We all went in thinking that we might die. You went in _knowing_. And you did it anyway."

"I had to," I said.

"You _did_," Kennedy said. "A lot of people wouldn't. That was not only the bravest thing I'd ever seen, it was the toughest. You're a tough chick, Tara MacLay. Don't ever let anyone tell you anything different."

Then she leaned over and kissed me. Not an "I want to rip your clothes off" kiss, but not an "I think of you as a good friend" kiss either.

When she sat back up she said, "Tough chicks are so hot."

"I told you --" I said. Not that the kiss had been in the least unpleasant.

"I know what you told me," she interrupted. "I was kind of there, remember? You told me you weren't up for anything, and certainly nothing casual. Well, I'm putting you on notice: I don't want something casual."

Oh boy.

"I'm not saying I'm head over heels for you or anything," she said. "But I like you and we have a lot in common and I'd really like to try to get something started with you. You know? Because I think there's a possibility there, I really do." Before I could say anything she said, "I warn you. I'm a difficult woman to say no to."

"I know that already," I said. The thing is, while I liked Kennedy, and she was good-looking, she really wasn't my type.

On the other hand, I wasn't hers, so she said, and look at her now.

It wasn't as though I felt like I'd be being disloyal to Willow. I would meet her again in Heaven -- and I loved her, missed her, and knew she was watching over me every second of the day -- but I couldn't see her not wanting me to ever date again. I believed in soul mates, and Willow was mine. But not every relationship has to be with a soul mate.

I didn't believe in casual flings. But there are gradations between casual and soulmate. And if Kennedy wanted to try for one of those middle-ground type of things, I couldn't give her a flat out no.

"Tell you what," I said. "I'm not saying yes. _But,_" I added as her face started to fall, "I'm not saying no, either. You want to pursue me, pursue me," I said. "I'll give you your chance to win me over."

"Let the hunt begin," she said, grinning.


	2. Warren

Authot's note: Warren, Maryland, doesn't exist -- but it used to. What used to be Warren is under the water of the Loch Raven reservoir.

Disclaimer: 'tain't mine.

X X X X X

I hated lying to Tara like that, really, I did.

I was a lot more into her than I wanted to let her know right now. I didn't want to scare her off, but I was fairly sure I was in love with her.

I'd been kinda disappointed back in November when she'd told me she wasn't up for casual, or anything else. But when I asked around and got the backstory, I got it completely.

Having the love of your life shot to death in front of you like that would've put anyone off dating for awhile. And from all I heard this Willow Rosenberg was someone well worth loving, and I'm not just talking in a physical sense.

But maintaining control the way she did. I'm telling you, if someone killed someone I loved in front of me I don't care how many bodies they threw in front of me I wouldn't have stopped until they were a bloody smear on the asphalt somewhere. I'm talking Gil Grissom going home in disgust because he can't find any useable evidence kind of violence, you know?

But Tara didn't do that. She held herself together and led the charge to fight off a demon army while Buffy lay in the hospital, and at the end personally stopped the bastard who'd killed her girlfriend and almost killed Buffy. (And _that_ would've been the end of the world. I'm not saying I like Buffy all that much, but I respect the hell out of her. Without her, we'd all be dead right now.)

And that revenge -- whoo boy. That was one _nasty_ revenge.

Tara made herself out to be this nice girl -- and she was, don't get me wrong -- maybe the nicest person I'd ever met. But she was proof that nice didn't mean soft. The way she handled herself back then showed what a tough chick she could be when she had to.

Buffy, Faith? They're tough. _I'm_ tough. But it's a lot easier to be tough when you have the strength we do. Tara, she's got power of her own, but that's not what makes her tough.

And I find tough chicks _really_ hot.

Tara had laid down the law from the beginning: don't seriously try to get her into bed. And I'd gone along with it.

At the beginning, I stayed chaste because, well, she was the only woman I was spending any time with who both swung my way _and_ was out of high school. (I've always liked older women. What can I say?) And while it's not like Sunnydale was gay-unfriendly, cruising the bars would as likely have made me vamp food as gotten me a date for the evening. Not that I slept around on a regular basis -- I didn't. But every once in a while you have to -- as Faith would put it -- "scratch that itch" or you wind up frustrated and cranky. So I satisfied myself with, well, satisfying myself.

But after I found out what life had been like for Tara, things were different. One day Tara told me about her father and brother and what the men in her family had done. I don't get along the best with my parents -- any of them, my mom, my dad, or my stepmom -- though they all love me in their way. Stepmom doesn't get me in the least, but she's always tried to be nice, and I like her for that. Dad's just distant, but then he runs a big-ass Fortune 500 company. And mom -- well, she kept in touch even though she didn't have custody, and we get along whenever we meet. She always made sure she was there, even if it was on the phone 95 of the time.

But in Tara's case -- I mean, her mom was great, but Jesus fucking Christ, the men in her family make "reserved and distant" look like Bill Cosby. I mean, I'd've rather had Homer Simpson for my dad than any member of the MacLay family.

And she survived it. That's because she is seriously tough. She may have come out of it nervous and stuttery, but she survived, she flourished, and she got out of there. I kept the flirtation casual, because I made the promise. But damn, did I start to wish I hadn't.

And there was more. I got to talking with Tara and found out that despite her kind of soft and squishy exterior and her devotion to magick -- which is fine if it works for her -- I've gone beyond thinking it's fairy-tale crap, obviously, seeing as how I wouldn't be the Slayer I am today without it, but it still isn't anything I want to become an expert on -- that we had a lot in common. Over the months leading up to the big battle against the First, we became friends. By the time of the battle, I'd decided that once it was over, I was going to try again with Tara -- to see if she was willing to give something a try between us.

She got me reading this guy named Steven Saylor who sets his mysteries all the way back in ancient Rome. And we both found out we couldn't stand Patricia Cornwell, and for the same reason. Don't get me wrong; Cornwell can write. But every character in her books is so damn depressed and miserable it's a wonder they don't just kill themselves. Not that I'm all about the fluffy, by any stretch. But c'mon. There's gotta be some good with the bad.

Like with real life, you know? It sucks that Chao-Ahn died. I liked her, even if I never could understand a thing she said. It sucks even worse that Amanda died. Sure, she was weird, but I've never been one to hold weird against someone. And she killed a vampire by herself. With no training at all. She would have made one hell of a Slayer.

No. She _was_ one hell of a Slayer.

It even sucks that Spike died, vampire or no. It sucks that all of them died - especially Chloe.

(It still hurts when I remember Chloe. I know that the First was responsible, but I still can't help thinking that my calling her a maggot was the last straw. Tara was able to get me through that night, especially after Buffy's speech about her being an idiot. I never hated Buffy more than I did at the moment. Chloe was _not_ an idiot. She was a 14-year old girl in well over her head who couldn't handle what was being thrown at her. She wasn't tough. Some people just aren't suited to be on the front lines. But that doesn't make her stupid.)

But, then, Tara pulled off a miracle spell and lived through it, thanks to the help of her dead lover. And we kicked the First back into the Hellmouth and then Spike made sure the hole was sealed up nice and tight. And Xander and Anya ran off to get married the second they made sure Tara was going to be alright.

Good and bad.

When I saw Tara lying there on the bus, barely breathing, Anya bent over her the way Vi was standing over Rona, my heart stopped. I ran over to see what had happened.

It was then that I noticed that her hair was still red.

"What --"

"She collapsed when she finished the spell," Anya said. "That's why I stayed with her -- she knew the spell might kill her and Giles told me to get her out to the bus no matter what."

Buffy came over and said, "She thought she'd die?"

Anya said, "Yes. And Giles told me not to tell you about it because then you wouldn't have let her do the spell."

"How is she?" I asked anxiously.

"How should I know?" she snapped. "I'm a former vengeance demon, not a paramedic." She softened a bit. "She's breathing. That's the important thing. We won't know more until we get to the hospital."

The hours before we got there were some of the longest of my life. I watched Rona drift in and out of consciousness; I watched Robin Wood fight off his own injuries; I watched Anya go over to Xander and hold his hand once I told her I'd keep an eye on Tara.

And I watched Tara. Watched this formerly blonde goddess who'd willingly gone to what she thought was certain death to save the world.

I sat down next to her and clasped her hand. "You will get better, Goddammit," I said. "You will."

And she did.

I don't say there's any cause and effect there. Even I'm not that arrogant.

When it came time for Tara to leave the hospital and migrate over to the Hyperion hotel -- we'd been staying at Buffy's ex Angel's headquarters ever since we'd escaped Sunnydale -- I made damn sure I was one of the people there to take her over.

Xander drove and Giles sat next to him while I held Tara's hand in the back seat. "Good to have you up and around again," I said, grinning like an idiot.

"Good to be up and around," she said, grinning back. After a couple of seconds, I let go of her hands. If I was going to pursue this goddess, I was going to have to take control of my usual take-no-prisoners approach towards getting what I wanted.

Not that I was going to take prisoners. But aggression wasn't one of Tara's big turn-ons.

"Tara," Giles said. "Now that you're up -- when I came to visit you in hospital I asked you if you'd be part of whatever the new arrangement was between whatever Watchers' Council arises from the ashes of the old and the hundreds of new Slayers around the world."

"Hundreds?" she said.

"The Devon Coven in England did a search. In addition to the surviving Slayers from Sunnydale, there are another 728 Slayers worldwide, ranging in age from 12 to 23. That's a total of 745 Slayers -- far more than there are Watchers available. "

"How many Watchers were you able to find?"

"Counting ones we've managed to lure from retirement, those who holed up so well the Bringers couldn't find them, and those who by sheer luck weren't at Council Headquarters, we have just shy of 70 where there were once over 400," Giles said. "Even if we aggressively recruit some replacements it's going to be quite a while before the organization is anything like it once was. Still, we have made some decisions."

"I'm listening," Tara said.

"To prevent such a devastating attack as occurred when the First killed nearly half our number with a single blow, the Council is going to decentralize. While the main headquarters will still be in London, its heads -- of which I am now one -- will be scattered worldwide, in eleven field offices. I am to be the head of the North American branch. We will have two field offices, one in Los Angeles, which will be headed up on a temporary basis by Wesley Wyndham-Pryce, and the other in --"

"Cleveland?" Tara asked.

"Surprisingly, no. It turns out the Cleveland Hellmouth is dying, and its energies are starting to diminish significantly. A small contingent of Slayers and the Ohio coven will monitor it, but it should be completely inactive within a year's time. Faith and Robin Wood will be heading up that group."

"So, so Principal Wood's going to be okay?"

Giles nodded. "Yes. His injuries were worse than yours, but he should make a full recovery."

"Good. So we're going to --"

"The only other active Hellmouth in North America: a suburb of Baltimore, Maryland, called, um -- Warren."

I knew what that name meant to Tara, and looked at her to see how she'd react.

She startled me and everyone else in the car; she laughed.

Xander said, "That's a bit of a surprise, Tara; one of the things I know about witchery is that names have power."

"Not that name," she said. "Not anymore. I'll be there."

"Well, then, that's where I'm going," I said. Giles looked at me, like I'd forgotten who was the Watcher and who was the Slayer here. "C'mon," I said. "Buffy's taking a vacation and Faith's going to be bedded down in the mistake by the lake for the next year; I'm the most experienced Slayer you've got. If there's a Hellmouth, I want to be there." True enough, but my main reason was that Tara was going to be there. Kind of hard to pursue her if I'm going to be chasing down demons in the outback.

"Fair enough," Giles said. "Though I warn you, you will likely be doing as much training as actual fieldwork."

I shrugged. "As long as I get to kick some vampire butt every once in a while, I don't have a problem with that."

"That shouldn't be an issue," Giles said. "Warren has been experiencing the same mysterious deaths Sunnydale has -- as has the Baltimore region as a whole for quite some time now. It should be quite challenging."

"I love a challenge," I said, but I was looking at Tara when I said it.


	3. Chosen Chick

Disclaimer: Joss Whedon created the _Buffy_ and _Angel_ characters and settings. I'm just borrowing them.

X X X X X

It wasn't until we returned to the Hyperion that I managed to get Giles alone for long enough to discuss my newfound abilities. He was a bit skeptical at first -- not that I blame him -- but after I gently lifted him up and floated him around the room while leaning casually against he wall, he started to believe me.

He came to the obvious conclusion as to how it had happened and asked the next most obvious question, "Do you sense any darkness?"

"Everyone has some darkness, Giles. You know that."

"You have more control over that than almost anyone on the planet. There are members of the Devon Coven who have been devoted to good for thirty years who have more of a dark side than you do. But with Willow's power --"

"I can't say," I said. "I don't, don't feel darker than usual. Do you know a good way to find out?"

Giles said, "Not that I can use myself. But Althenea -- the head of the Devon Coven -- should be able to recommend someone local."

"I can read everyone's aura except my own," I said. "And they're so much clearer than they used to be. It's like, like before? I could tell roughly where someone was on the balance between good and evil, and -- obviously, like with Buffy and Faith --- tell whether they're who they say they are. Now? I can tell exactly where people are on the scale. I mean, I can see slight gradations. For instance, your aura shows you as being devoted to good -- but also the evil you've done in the past. I can also see emotions in the aura -- you're concerned right now, but not panicked."

Giles frowned, but it was a frown of curiosity rather than displeasure. "May I try an experiment?" I nodded. "I'm going to say three things. Tell me if I'm lying on any of them." He took a breath and then said, "My full name is Rupert St. Martin Giles. I watch professional wrestling both for professional reasons and because I find it amusing. The first woman I was ever attracted to was named Vivian Mahmoud, and she was one of my schoolmates growing up."

"The third one is the lie -- at least the second half is," I said. "Vivian Mahmoud was not one of your schoolmates."

He nodded and smiled. "Indeed not. She was the mother of one of my schoolmates. Beautiful woman. About twenty years too old for me, alas."

Then I laughed. "You watch professional wrestling?"

"Tell no one," he said.

"Your secret's safe with me."

"This is uncanny," Giles said. "Did you have to concentrate to see whether or not I was lying?"

I shook my head, "Not, not really. Just a little bit. I don't see auras unless I want to, but it's not hard to want to."

"You realize what a tremendous ability that is?" Giles said. "You are a Truthseeker. It's one of the rarest magical talents there is. Willow's power combined with your natural ability to read auras -- this is astonishing."

"Other than auras and telekinesis," I said, "I haven't experimented with anything else. And I won't, unless it becomes absolutely necessary -- my own defense or, or the defense of another -- until whoever Althenea recommends can look into my magick. But I hope it happens before we leave LA--"

"We're not going to be able go anywhere until the Watchers Council is complete. We need to find half a dozen field offices around the world and make sure there are people there ready to be Watchers and train Slayers. That's at least a month away. The Council is even now contacting the girls who were found by the Devon Coven and are offering them -- if they're underage -- "scholarships" to a private school, or, if they're adults and able to make their own decisions, they're not bothering with the cover story. Half of the worldwide offices will be "private schools," including the one in Maryland. The other half will be for the older Slayers -- and the experienced ones. We're trying to do two per continent."

"So, there'll be fourteen," I said, wanting to see if Giles got the joke.

"No, I said 12 -- why -- Oh. Despite there technically being seven continents, I believe that Antarctica is fine on its own."

"Think of all the poor innocent penguins you've just condemned," I said. "No one to help them when the Fyarl demons attack." My eyes widened. "Unless the penguins have their own Slayer? In every generation there is a Chosen Chick. She alone will waddle against the sharks, the leopard seals, and the Orcas of darkness. She is -- the Whaler."

Giles said, "I give that speech entirely too often," then chuckled, saying, "Somehow, I doubt it."

Practically everyone not either in the hospital, like Rona, or waiting for someone to get out of the hospital, like Faith, was waiting for me in the Hyperion lobby when I left Giles' temporary quarters. I got hugged by about a dozen new Slayers, all thanking me and making sure I was okay, then everyone else, starting with Dawn and Buffy and ending with Kennedy.

After the welcome back broke up, I found myself sitting with Buffy, Dawn, Anya, Xander, and Kennedy. "So what'd you go hole up with Giles about?" Xander said.

I didn't see any reason not to tell them, "My hair's not the only thing that changed. Apparently, to, to make sure I could complete the spell, Willow gave me not only her hair color -- but a lot of her power. I needed to tell Giles about it first in case he was worried about something. It turns out he is."

"What?" Dawn asked.

"Because, before she was killed, Willow had been turning her power to the darker side."

Buffy caught on immediately. "You're not dark."

Kennedy said. "You're probably the lightest person I've ever met."

I smiled, "Thanks," I said. "But I understand his concern. So I'm not going to use my powers for a bit -- most of them, anyway, not until he's sure."

"That stinks," Dawn said.

"No -- because what I can do -- here. Each of you tell me something about yourself. Make it up or tell the truth -- just be sure it's something I wouldn't know."

They all seemed puzzled until Anya said, "Oh, for crying out loud. In the universe where Xander and Willow were vampires, I tried to strangle Giles."

Buffy said, "The only thing I managed to save from Sunnydale is this --"

As she pulled a stake out of her pocket, Xander grinned and said, "Mr. Pointy!"

Buffy returned the grin and continued, --"the Scythe, and the clothes on my back."

Xander said, "My middle name is Marshall."

Dawn said, "Anya didn't find everything I shoplifted from the Magic Box, but I was too afraid to return the necklaces I found later, so I threw them away." Anya glared at her.

Kennedy said, "Even though I'm from New England I'm actually a Yankees fan."

I said, "Anya, I'm sure Giles wouldn't be angry with you this much later. Buffy, I'm so sorry. I wish you'd also been able to save Mr. Gordo and that little umbrella. Xander, I don't know what your middle name is, but it's not Marshall. Dawn, you know Anya found everything. And Kennedy, you are indeed a Yankees fan."

"You can tell when people are lying," Anya said.

"And emotions, and how good they are -- a lot better than I used to. Giles called what I am now a 'Truthseeker' and said it, it was very rare."

"I'm impressed," Kennedy said; and she wasn't lying, I could tell from her aura. I'd just begun to notice that her emotion, when she looked at me, had strong elements of both romantic and friendly love, when I forced myself to stop reading auras.

It would be tempting to use the ability all the time. Tempting, but wrong. I wasn't entitled to everyone's secrets.

Unfortunately, as Isaac Asimov once said, "You can't put the mushroom cloud back in that nice shiny uranium sphere." Kennedy was very close to being in love with me, if she wasn't already.

Either Kennedy didn't realize how much she was genuinely attracted to me, or she did and for some reason she was downplaying it – probably because she didn't want to frighten me off by coming on too strong.

Which was sweet, in a way. Kennedy was a high-pressure type of person. Until this moment, I didn't even realize she had speeds beyond "stop" and "go all out." If she was willing to try to ease off in order to "pursue me," that spoke to how serious she was about it.

I wasn't that attracted to her in return. But if she was willing to try to moderate her aggressiveness for me, then I was certainly going to give her her chance to win me over.

_Willow_, I prayed inwardly. _Give me a sign. If I open myself to this, you know it doesn't mean I love you any less. But if you disapprove, I won't. Show me, sweetie. Either way._

Kennedy frowned for a second before I said, "Thanks, Kennedy. It, it could be very useful. I'm just glad I can turn it on and off. I wouldn't want to go around all the time knowing what everyone was feeling." The frown left her face. Apparently her fears had been quelled.

Buffy laughed and said, "I can sympathize." I must have looked confused, because she said, "Willow never told you about the time I could read minds?" I said that she hadn't, so she told me the story. It did sound nightmarish, but it obviously had a happy ending.

"I, I couldn't handle that," I said. "If you couldn't, I certainly couldn't."

"Don't say that," Kennedy said. "Remember, you're tough. Tough chicks can handle anything thrown at them. Buffy handled it. You could too."

Right then someone called Xander and Anya to go look at something, and the group broke up. Buffy and Kennedy went off to talk to some of the former Potentials – some of the ones I wasn't that familiar with.

Dawn stayed behind. "She's into you, you know." Proving that you didn't need to be able to read auras to notice these things. Buffy, Xander and Anya apparently hadn't been able to tell, though Xander and Anya were spending more time looking into each other's eyes than anything else, so they might not have noticed if Kennedy had stripped naked and screamed "take me!" in the middle of the Hyperion lobby.

"If you mean Kennedy, I know," I said. "If you mean anyone else –"

"No, I meant Kennedy," Dawn said. "You planning to let her down easy?"

"Actually," I said, "I'm not necessarily going to let her down at all."

I watched Dawn intently to gauge her reaction. She'd always been one of the biggest fans of Willow's and my relationship, and had taken her death as hard as anyone. I didn't check her aura.

An array of emotions played out on her face – anger, disappointment, happiness – before she finally said, quietly, "Are you sure?"

"No," I said. "I'm fairly sure Willow wouldn't disapprove--" _I'm still waiting for that sign, baby – _"I know I'll be with her again someday. But the rest of you –"

"I can't say it'd be the easiest thing in the world for me to see you with someone who isn't Willow," Dawn said. "But I know you loved her more than anything and I think you're right – she would approve. If it's the right person." She looked over at Kennedy, who was doing some mock-sparring with another Slayer. "Is she the right person?"

"I asked Willow to give me a sign one way or the other," I admitted. "So far? Nothing."

"Maybe that's your sign right there," Dawn said. "It's not Willow's call. It's not mine either. It's yours." Then she said, fiercely, "But if she hurts you, I'll kill her."

And that was all the sign I needed.


	4. Taking Care of Business

Author's Note: Special bonus to anyone who can tell me where I got the name of Kennedy's father's law firm from.

Disclaimer: nope, still 'tain't mine.

X X X X X

This aura thing Tara's got – damn. I am impressed, but take that impressed and double it and you'll see how worried I am. If she can read emotions, then she knows I lied about how I feel about her.

Still, she didn't seem to push me away or anything and she said she could turn it on and off, so I have to hope she turned it off when she looked at me.

It was going to be a lot harder for me now. Now I was going to have to pursue a woman who could know everything I was feeling – and whether I was lying about it.

Tara's the most ethical person I know. I can't see her reading people without a good reason. I know a lot of people who if they had this power would abuse it, even if they were abusing it for what they thought were good reasons.

Tara's not like that, thank God. It's all I've got to pin my hopes on at this point anyway.

I was doing a little mock sparring with one of the other Slayers – some were starting to get antsy to get home for a while, or to go out and kill some demons, or both. The only thing Giles told them was that if they wanted to go out and Slay in LA, to take a local guide with them. This meant the other vampire with a soul, Angel; his girlfriend, Cordelia, or a couple of other Angel Investigations employees. I'd been out once, by myself, with Cordelia and Angel.

Angel, now, I knew he could fight; I'd heard stories about him. Though this Cordelia chick looked like she knew how to use that sword I wasn't expecting that much out of her.

We ran across a nest of about a dozen Burchells' demons who weren't especially happy to see us. (Turns out they were drug dealers.) Angel took out a couple, I killed a couple more, and Cordelia was doing some damage with her sword.

When the numbers were down to six-on-three, another dozen Burchells' came pouring out of a nearby building. Cordelia said, "Enough!" and began to glow with a bright white light. Angel put his hand over my eyes before I went completely blind. When I could finally see again, what I saw through the spots was eighteen or so very dead demons.

"How the hell did you do that?" I said. "And if you could, why didn't you do it earlier?"

"The point of these excursions is for you slayers to get out and kill things," she said. "Not for you to get a guided tour of the back alleys of Los Angeles while watching me glow." Then she said. "Besides, this is kind of the atom bomb of demon-fighting. Not what you want to use as your first resort, and it takes something out of me every time I use it. A lot easier to use a sword unless you've got no other choice. As for how . . . I'm Angel's link to the Powers that Be. A while back I found out that my visions were killing me, so I had to become part demon in order to handle them. This ability to glow and kill evil is just kinduva nice fringe benefit."

"I'd say." Still, I kind of prefer the Slayer powers I already have. I'm a hands-on type of girl. Not that Cordelia's abilities wouldn't be useful to have around, but they wouldn't be as much fun. Go out. Find demons. Glow. Go home. Repeat until bored.

Anyway, that was all the Slaying itch I needed to get scratched at that point – just enough to keep me in the game while I waited for Tara to get out of the hospital.

And now there she was, talking with Dawn. Then Dawn got up and came over towards me.

I've never been sure what to make of Dawn. She always seemed to kind of resent us potentials. But, I gotta say, she came through when it counted. Still, we've maybe said ten words to each other that weren't strictly business. So I had no idea why she was walking towards me.

"Kennedy," she said. "Could we talk?"

Then, without hearing me say either yes or no, she began to half-drag me away from the other Slayers. I let her, because I was in a bit of a good mood. Would've been fun to see her try to drag away a Slayer determined not to move, but I didn't have any particular reason to give Buffy's sister a hard time.

"So, what do you want?" I asked.

"You're interested in Tara," she said. So whatever happened to small talk?

"She told –"

"She didn't tell me anything," Dawn said. "I saw the way you looked at her when you called her a tough chick. You're completely into her."

"Not completely."

Her eyes narrowed. "It had better be completely. She was dating one of the most wonderful people on the planet. If all you're after is something casual, you can keep going. Because I won't let you hurt her."

"Won't _let_ me?"

"To quote Willow: 'If you hurt her, I will beat you to death with a shovel. A vague disclaimer is nobody's friend."

She was deadly serious.

Now I could've blown this off, told her to go take a flying leap, and walked away. And I was tempted to do it. In one sense, this wasn't her concern. Tara's an adult, I'm an adult. But I've faced my share of protective friends – a couple of times, I've _been_ the protective friend. And pissing off a protective friend is never a good thing.

That didn't mean I was going to let the threat pass without some kind of response on my part.

"Two things. One, I believe you. Two, I wouldn't hurt Tara any more than I'd hurt myself. And three, if you threaten me like that again, you'd better have the shovel with you."

"I'd planned to," she said. The girl had steel ones, I had to give her that. I guess facing off against her sister for the last several years had toughened her up. "So, you like her." It wasn't a question.

"Yes. And there's no guarantee that anything's going to happen between us. But I'm going to try my best to see that it does. Just remember one thing."

"What?"

"I'm not Willow. This doesn't seem to bother Tara and I hope it doesn't bother you. Because if it does, that's on you, not me."

She opened her mouth, closed it, and finally said, "Fair enough."

I wondered how many times I'd be getting that speech in the next couple of weeks.

X X X X X

It turned out the answer was "three." Buffy, Xander and Faith all gave me variations of it, though Xander's was fairly friendly and Buffy at least made the effort to be civil about it. Faith, on the other hand, just threatened to outright kill me if I caused Tara any pain.

I knew there was a reason I liked her. We may come from opposite worlds economically, but there's something about New England chicks. We're feisty.

As for the rest of the core "Scoobies," Giles had more important things to worry about, and Anya was more concerned with having as much sex with Xander as possible. Lucky guy. I wish I'd ever had a partner as interested and enthusiastic as Anya. I'd ask her for tips except I'm fairly sure she's never crossed to my side of the street in 1100 years.

Hell, maybe I should ask Xander. Anya wouldn't be dragging him off so often if he wasn't good at what he was doing.

In the meantime, the actual reformation of the Watcher's Council continued. They had plans for twelve offices around the world: The LA and Baltimore offices, of course; Christchurch, New Zealand (near a Hellmouth) and Darwin, Australia; in Kyoto, Japan, and a bit outside Mumbai, India (Hellmouth location); in Alexandria, Egypt and Port Elizabeth, South Africa; in London, England, and in Moscow, Russia (Hellmouth location); and in Sao Luis, Brazil -- closest to the Hellmouth about twenty miles off the coast in the North Atlantic -- and Santiago, Chile. There were apparently two other Hellmouths in the world, but one of them emptied out 25,000 feet down in the Pacific Ocean and the other was somewhere under the polar icecap. There were magical circumstances as well as practical ones that made those essentially unusable for anything but a few specific demon species. The one off the coast of Brazil was in shallow enough waters that it was a different matter. Any Slayers there would have to undergo extensive training in underwater combat.

Thank God I wasn't one of them. I can swim, but duking it out with kraken has never really appealed to me.

One of the biggest hassles was right here in LA -- Angel, after all, ran a business here as well as "helping the helpless," so they had to figure out a way to work together without getting in each other's way. I wished them luck at that. My Dad's the one with the head for business in the family, not me.

If my Dad had had his ideal kid, I would've been in training for an MBA about now. While he was definitely disappointed that I didn't follow in his footsteps, he's never given me a hard time about it. As long as I'm happy and don't get myself arrested, he's okay with what I do, as long as I did something. He wasn't about to let me become a member of the idle rich.

Not that there's much chance of that now, of course. I may still have rich nailed -- I plan to use some of my own money to help out the council if they need it -- but a Slayer's life is about as far from "idle" as you can get.

I was able to help out when Giles told me that he was still having trouble finding a place in Warren that met our needs.

"Give me a list," I said. "I'll see what I can do."

Then I took the list -- enough living space for about 100 students, faculty and staff; classrooms, a gym area, a library, several other things -- and called the law firm my dad uses for a lot of his business, Woodman & Weld, out of New York. (He has a local firm on call for immediate matters, and Woodman & Weld for anything lengthy.)

I was paged through to one of the lawyers quickly. "Ms. Kennedy," a smooth voice said. "How can I be of assistance?"

I explained to them what we needed. "I realize you're not a real estate firm," I said when I was done, "But I figured if you guys can't help me directly you should at least be able to track down someone who can."

"Give me those requirements again," he said. I did so. "And will you be needing our assistance in making the purchase?"

"No, just in tracking down someplace _to_ purchase. My friends have their own money, but we're all kind of stuck here in Los Angeles. Even with the internet it's hard to do coast-to-coast real estate transactions."

He laughed. "I understand completely, Ms. Kennedy. I can have them call you back with a list of appropriate locations."

"Rupert Giles is the man you should be calling," I said. "When you call back here, ask for him. If he's not here, I'll take the call."

"Certainly, Ms. Kennedy."

"You know, I just realized that I have no idea how much this is going to run me," I said. "What are your hourly rates?"

"On the house, Ms. Kennedy," he said. "Your father's given us plenty of business; we can afford to do you this one small favor. Just maybe suggest us to your friends if they ever need legal representation in the New York area."

I said I'd do that, and hung up the phone. When I did, I said, "Yes!"

Tara overheard me -- hell, the entire lobby overheard me, but she was the only one who came over. "What's got you excited?" she asked.

"Besides you standing five feet away?" I said.

She blushed slightly at that, but said, "Yes. Besides that." Damn. A blush. I'm good.

"I've just made it a lot easier for us to find a place to work in out of Warren, Maryland," I said, and explained what I'd done.

She smiled when I'd finished. I love that smile. It's the smile that means "You've done good," and she didn't bring it out for just anybody. "Good job."

"Well, they still have to actually find a place," I said. "This should just make it easier." Then I said, "Did Giles manage to get someone to come test your goodness?" Like that needed testing.

"Althenea suggested a local witch, a solitary practitioner with an impeccable reputation. She'll be coming by tomorrow. After that I should be good to start exploring my new limits."

"Speaking of exploring limits . . ." I said.

"Yes?"

"Want to go grab a bite to eat?"

"You mean like a date?"

"Is that too high-pressure for you?"

"It depends. Were you talking the most expensive place in Los Angeles, or popping down to the nearest diner?"

"Which would you prefer?" Honestly, I didn't know anywhere to eat in LA. Everything I'd eaten, I'd eaten here at the Hyperion.

"Let's just explore and see what we find."

I nodded. "That'll work."


	5. My Dinner with Kennedy

Disclaimer: Joss Whedon owns these characters. This particular AU and the plot are mine.

X X X X X

When Kennedy actually asked me out, I was surprised. Not that she did it, but the way she did – almost tentatively. 

For a woman who called her attempts to build a relationship with me a pursuit and said "Let the hunt begin" after I gave her the go-ahead to see if there was any potential between us, this was remarkable.

I've said before, from all I've seen of Jacqueline Olivierez Kennedy, she figure out what she wants and she gets it. Not in the way Faith used to; she's not brutal, just direct.

But she was moderating herself. For me. (Not completely; that comment about how my presence excited her, for instance. But I can appreciate a little bit of bluntness on occasion.) That she was willing to do that – that she was that interested in me, thought that highly of me, that she was willing to temper what she'd been for 19 years –

Well, it was flattering.

And it didn't hurt that she's a good-looking woman. Not my usual physical type, but I've learned over the years that I don't love someone for their outside, but for their inside. It was the spirit in Willow that attracted me to her – that fire, that spark, that she didn't even know she had.

Maybe I would find something similar in Kennedy. I was willing to give it a chance.

I hope this doesn't come across as calculating as it sounds. For all Kennedy's talk about hunting and pursuing, this was still a potential relationship, not a game of chess.

So we walked around Los Angeles for a while, trying to find a good place to eat. We talked along the way, about trivial things – she was excited about an author named Eric Garcia who had the most unusual private detective she'd ever run across, and we talked about music – and not so trivial things, like our lives and histories.

We'd grown close enough that I'd shared with her my basic family history, and she'd told me hers. Her family situation sounded more like Cordelia's than anything else – extremely rich parents who didn't understand her and who tried to solve problems by throwing money at them – but she said, "Before I came to Sunnydale? I'd've been the first person bitching about how lousy my family was growing up. But now that I've heard all of your stories – Buffy's Dad doesn't even show up for his ex's funeral; Xander's drunken abusers; Faith's family, who were even worse – and yours – my parents barely register on the radar. I mean, I can still talk to them, and they talk to me, and they care about me, even if things aren't perfect."

"And the money helps."

She grinned. "Oh yeah. Don't let anyone ever tell you it doesn't."

"So how rich is your family, exactly? You mentioned once that your home has wings." When she hesitated I said, "You know I'm not going to hold it against you. And I'm hardly after your money."

She said, "Yeah. But most Slayers don't come from backgrounds like mine. You've got middle-classers like Vi and Buffy, or lower-classers – no insult intended here, I'm just talking their financial status – like Rona and Faith. Me? My family's yearly income is somewhere in the 25 million dollar range, and we probably have around a billion in total assets."

"Wow."

She looked worried. "Does this change anything?"

I said, "Of course not. But you're paying for the date."

She laughed and said, "I asked you out in the first place. That was a given."

"It says a lot about you that you'd still want to be a Slayer even with all that."

She shrugged and said, "That's who I am, though. I'm not going to back out just because I'm rich. I've been training to do this ever since I was eight years old."

"You could have asked your father –"

Shaking her head, Kennedy said. "Could have. Didn't want to." And even though I wasn't reading her aura, I could tell that she was being completely honest with me. It never would have occurred to Kennedy to back out.

Which did say a lot about her. And I liked what it said.

Then we talked a bit more about my family.

"And then there's the time my family came to Sunnydale to drag me back home," I said. "Did, did I ever tell you about that one?"

"Only about the family legend that you were demons, and that you didn't go back with them," she said. "What happened?"

"It's not me at my best," I warned. And then I told the entire story. She laughed when Spike hit me, then caught herself and said, a bit worriedly, "Sorry."

"Nothing to be sorry about. It_ is_ funny. A lot funnier now almost three years later, but it's funny."

"There's something to be said for the direct approach," she said, and grabbed my hand.

I didn't let it go. Maybe there was something to be said for the direct approach. She held it for a few seconds, squeezed it tightly, and tried to interlock her fingers with mine.

I pulled free. "No," I said, not angrily. "That, that's intimate. We're not at that level yet." Then I said, "Don't worry. You couldn't have known." I grabbed her hand, then, and held it for a few more seconds before I let it go.

Then I finished up the story. When I was done, she said, "Damn. _That's_ you at your worst? I've been a goody-good my whole damn life and I've done worse than that."

"I felt like I betrayed them." I still did, a little.

She laughed. "Yeah. You betrayed them enough that they joined together as one and told your 'blood kin' to go take a flying leap. They forgave you immediately. Don't worry about it." She looked up. "How's this place?"

It was a seafood restaurant – Ocean Pride. We looked over the outside menu – midrange prices. Not the kind of place where ten dollars buys you two meals, but not the kind where it gets you laughed at either.

Kennedy said, "Um, your shrimp allergy – can you be at the same table with them? Because I love shrimp but I'm not going to eat them if it might kill you."

"Only when taken internally," I said. "Don't worry."

But when it came time to order she got the scallops. Double order, with fries and an appetizer of fried clams. Slayers and their appetites.

I enjoyed my grilled salmon, and we kept talking.

"So," she said after gulping down a scallop, "When did you know?"

"When did I know what?" I asked. There were two legitimate alternatives here, after all.

"When did you find out that you were a lesbian?"

"Always," I said. "I mean, I've only ever been attracted to women. I had to keep it quiet through high school – even go on a couple of dates with boys so my Dad wouldn't find out. My, my mom knew, but she knew better than to tell anyone else."

"Yeah, you said it was your Mom who got you started on this witchy stuff, right?" I nodded. "Gutsy of her."

"It was her act of rebellion," I said. "While she wasn't a MacLay by birth – so, so they couldn't keep her under control with threats of her being a demon – they always told her that if she didn't do what they said they'd hurt me." And then I said, fiercely, "And now I still have everything she taught me and I never have to see them again."

"Want me to go beat the crap out of them for you?" she asked protectively.

"No," I said. "That part of my life is long over." Then I grinned and added. "But I appreciate the offer. How about you?"

"More or less the same thing," she said. "Except minus the family of psychopaths. My parents all know. My mom accepts it but prays for me -- Catholic -- and my Dad wants me to have kids someday, but as long as I don't horribly embarrass him somehow he doesn't really care as long as I'm happy."

"Catholic?"

She laughed. "I suppose I am, technically," she said. "But very very lapsed. I'm definitely still a Christian of some sort, but I'm not interested really in belonging to any organized religion that says I can't marry or adopt or be who I am." She speared another scallop with her fork, gulped it down, and said, "Now you, I know. You're a pagan."

"I prefer 'Wiccan,' but yeah, pretty much, that's it. My family, as you may have guessed --"

"Fundamentalist?"

"To the extreme. Of course, they're hypocrites about it. In the case of the MacLays, it's just another way to keep the women in line. They're no more Christians than they are Vulcans."

"I'm thinking you would've preferred Vulcans."

"I would've preferred Klingons," I said. Then I looked at her. "One of the things I never would've pegged you for is a Star Trek fan."

"Well, don't go spreading it around," she said. "I gotta keep my street cred. Once geeks find out that hot chicks like their favorite show they're all over you." That's Kennedy: Modesty isn't in her vocabulary. Of course, she's not exactly lying. "I'm betting you've had the same problem."

I blushed again. That's twice in one day she's made me blush. I resist the temptation to check her aura and say, "I very rarely think of myself as hot."

"Check the mirror a bit more often," she said. "Anyway, I found out about this geek factor at the one Star Trek Convention I went to. I wanted to see if I could talk to one of the actresses, or at least get her to sign something for me."

"Crush?"

"Big-time," she said.

"Jeri Ryan?"

She almost looked offended. "Barbie of Borg? Please! No, actually, Gates McFadden." I must have looked surprised, because she said, "I've always liked older women." She finished off her last French fry and looked at my vegetables. "Can I have some broccoli?"

"Help yourself," I said. "And watch it, you. I'm not that much older than you are."

"Three and a half years," she said. "Older enough."

Then, finally done, she called for the server and we paid and left.

As we walked back to the Hyperion, we continued the conversation.

"Anyway," I said. "I wouldn't have thought you much of a fan of most science fiction or, or fantasy, given the way you feel about magick --"

"Am I ever going to live down that 'fairy tale crap' line?"

"Never," I said wickedly. "I will hold it against you until the end of time -- Jackie O."

"This sucks," she said. "I gotta get some good blackmail material on you."

Right then we heard a scream from an alley, looked at each other, and ran over.

A classic vampire attack -- two vampires, one male, one female -- and one victim, who was screaming, so she was still alive. Kennedy yanked out a stake. I wouldn't be surprised if she took it to bed with her.

I didn't mean that the way it sounded. Anyway, that would _hurt_.

There was something different about the way Kennedy approached a fight: she didn't bother bantering with her targets. She bodyslammed the female vampire out of the way before anyone even noticed she was there. Then, ripping the male away from the victim's neck, she staked him in one smooth motion.

The female vampire had gotten up by this time. She hissed one word, "Slayer," and turned to run.

Well, she tried to, anyway.

Kennedy looked at me questioningly when the vampire froze in her tracks; I gestured, "go ahead," and she walked up and staked it.

Then we bent down to look at the victim. The vampires hadn't even broken skin yet. Thank the Goddess. We walked the woman back to the Hyperion and made sure she had a ride home. She accepted our explanation that the two people were muggers who'd run off when we'd approached.

They always seem to.

Then we walked upstairs.

"I could have caught her," Kennedy said.

"I'm sure you could have," I said. "I just wanted to make it easier." I smiled. "It wasn't any kind of comment on your ability. I know you're good."

"Damn right," she said. "Anyway, before the vamps interrupted us, I was saying how I had to get some good blackmail material on you. So spill."

I laughed. "Uh-uh. Gotta save something for the second date."

She looked at me with surprise and delight. "There's going to be a second date?"

"Like you had any doubt."

"Actually," she said. "I did."

"Well," I said, and leaned over and gave her a kiss on the cheek, "Don't." Then I said, "Goodnight," and went inside.

I'd had fun.

For a first date, that's a pretty good start.


	6. Dream of Willow

Disclaimer: Joss owns all; I own naught but this particular AU.

X X X X X

I couldn't stop smiling after Tara closed the door.

Damn. That had gone better than I'd expected. I was sure we'd have a nice time, but I wasn't so sure we'd click.

We clicked well enough that she wants a second date.

I'm good.

And incredibly lucky.

Before the night had begun, I'd been fairly sure I was in love with Tara MacLay. Now I was completely sure.

The woman was a goddess. She could kill vampires, she was tough, she was smart, and she was absolutely beautiful. In my head I was already being Clark Gable to her Scarlett O' Hara. (That is my ultimate romantic fantasy. Of course, the latter parts of the movie weren't much to emulate. But I wanted to sweep this woman off her feet.)

All I wanted to do right now was go back to my room, collapse into my bed, and relive the night and how well it had gone, but there was something else I had to do first. I checked my watch – 10 PM. Odds were Giles wasn't asleep.

I went to his room and knocked on the door. "Come in," he said.

He was sitting on the bed, watching a black & white movie on television. "Giles?" I said.

"Kennedy," he said. "What can I do for you?" Then he looked at me. "I take it your date went well."

I didn't realize I could grin even wider, but I did. "You could say that."

"I'm glad." And from the looks of him, he really was. "But I'm sure you didn't come here to 'dish' on your evening. Did you have something else in mind?"

"I wanted to know if you'd gotten a call from either a lawyer or a real estate agent."

"Both, actually," he said. "First I received a call from a lawyer at Woodman & Weld, explaining the situation and asking if I had any other specifications for the location we were looking for. An hour or so later, a Baltimore real estate agent called and said they had located three potential locations: An old hotel, a former nursing home community, and an office building."

"Any of them sound good?"

"Oddly enough, the nursing home community," Giles said. "There are independent cottages formerly used by those retirees who were still largely capable of looking after themselves, plus many bedrooms and common areas. Ms. Baker – the real estate agent – is e-mailing some specifications to Angel Investigations and is sending us as many details as she can via overnight mail."

"And the money?"

"The council can easily afford it," he said. "And it's in the right location as well – right on the outskirts of Warren, between it and another Baltimore suburb called Cockeysville. Further, it is not in fact directly on top of the Hellmouth." He laughed. "We've had that difficulty in the past."

"Yeah, I heard about that." After a second, "So it looks good?"

"Well, so far," Giles said. "That phone call you made was a lot of help, Kennedy. I'm sure it would have taken us a great deal longer to locate a suitable location without the assistance of Woodman & Weld and Ms. Baker. The Council is grateful. More importantly, I'm grateful."

"If there's any other way that my or my father's connections can smooth things over, let me know," I said. "I want this to work as much as you do."

"I know you do," he said. "In fact, I've come up with the position I'd like to offer you, if you'll take it."

"What is it?" I doubted Giles was going to be making me the janitor.

"I would you like to be the head combat trainer."

"You mean, I get to do a bit of what I was doing back in Sunnydale?" Although I was a bit surprised at Giles' confidence in me – I know how much of an arrogant brat I can be at times – I knew that I'd had a lot more experience using weapons and training with them than anyone else except Buffy and Faith. And Faith was going to Cleveland for a while, and Buffy was going to take a vacation.

Part of me thought she was cutting out. The other part couldn't blame her. She'd been fighting the forces of darkness for about seven years at this point. I wasn't surprised she wanted a vacation.

Of course, there was also that part of me that was glad not to be dealing with her. I respected her, admired her, and thought I could learn a lot from her. But I didn't like her, and I'm fairly sure the feeling was mutual.

Maybe I'd like her more when she wasn't stressed out by everything that'd happened in the last year. I'd cross that bridge when, and if, I came to it.

"A bit less military in nature, but otherwise, yes."

"I accept." Damn right I accepted.

After a second, "You would, of course, also be the lead Slayer in Warren – and the lead Slayer of any sort associated with a permanent location."

"What about Faith?"

"Well, the first thing we do is take care of her problems with the California penal system," Giles said. "Buffy's discussing things with an old military ally of ours who may be able to provide some assistance."

"If that doesn't work, let me know," I said. "Woodman & Weld has someone on call to take care of difficult matters like this."

"I'll do that," he said. "The Council has its own resources, but it may be a while before we're able to fully access them. And, in any event, there are enough of the Old Guard remaining who could make things difficult for Faith were they so inclined." He said, "In any event, I tend to think Faith's better off not being based out of any specific location. Once we sort our her legal troubles, we can send her to trouble spots. In the meantime, she can stay in either Los Angeles or Warren, whichever she prefers. Robin will be going with her as her Watcher."

"So he's now an official recruit?"

"Yes," Giles said. "Plus, on Angel's recommendation, we've brought in an old friend of his – a former member of the LAPD. She'll be helping Wesley with the Los Angeles branch."

"It sounds like this is all coming together," I said.

He smiled. "It is. Still, I dislike the bureaucracy of it all."

"I'm sure there had to have been Watchers who handled the paperwork," I said. "Why not try to make sure at least one of them gets assigned to every location?"

"I'm trying," Giles said. "But few of them survived the explosion. Most of the surviving Watchers were field operatives. The ones who specialized in office work –"

"Were in the office. Yeah." I should have figured it out.

"Don't think I don't appreciate the thought." He stretched. "And on that note, I'd like to get back to my movie."

I said goodbye and went back to my room. Then I went over and over my date with Tara until I fell asleep.

Still grinning, I'd like to point out.

X X X X X

That night, I think I had my first Slayer dream.

Fortunately, this one didn't seem to be leading up to a coming apocalypse.

I walked into a magic store. The place was empty, not even anyone behind the cash register, except for a woman with mid-length red hair – I knew that color -- who was sitting at a table in the middle of the room. She was reading a book.

"It's about time you got here," she said as I walked in. "I've been waiting a while." She pulled out a chair. "Come on, take a seat." I hesitated. She laughed. "You're going to have to get comfortable around magic if you want to keep dating Tara. I swear, nothing's going to jump out and attack. I'm fairly sure the mummy hand is safely downstairs."

I came over and sat down. Of course, I'd figured out who this was. "You're Willow Rosenberg."

Smiling, she said, "Well, that saves the problem of introductions. Yes, I'm Willow. And you're Jacqueline Olivierez Kennedy, and you're in love with my soulmate."

"Yes. I am," I said defiantly. "Do you have a problem with that?"

Her eyes flashed dark for just a second. "If I had a problem," she said in a voice that was both light and menacing, "You'd know about it." Her eyes went back to their normal blue. "Besides, my friends have already threatened you with dismemberment if you hurt Tara. I don't think anything I'll do is going to add to that."

"Considering what you did to help Tara while we were fighting the First," I said, "I'm not quite sure I believe that." After a second, "But I love her new, red hair."

"I didn't know that was going to happen," Willow said. "Ah well. I liked it better blonde, but I have to admit she makes a darn cute redhead."

"Did you actually tell someone that you were going to beat them to death with a shovel?"

"That's a big yeppers," she said. "One of Buffy's old boyfriends." She stretched. "Anyway, that's not why I'm here."

"So why are you here if you're not here to tell me not to hurt Tara?"

"I don't need to tell you that," Willow said. "You wouldn't hurt Tara. I can already tell. She's more likely to hurt you. And she inflicts less pain than anyone I've ever known." Then she said, "No. I'm here to tell you that, for whatever it's worth, I approve. I mean, I'd like it a bit more if you had a better attitude about magic –"

"I've given up saying it's all fairy tale crap," I said. "What more do you want?"

"I want you to learn about it," she said. "I'm not saying become a witch or an expert like Giles. Not everyone has that in them. But it's really important to her. Learn the basics."

"So why are you helping me win over your soulmate?" I asked, a bit suspiciously. One thing I did learn from my father – well, my father and Robert Heinlein: There Ain't No Such Thing As A Free Lunch.

"Because you'd be good for her," she said. "I loved Tara with all of my heart, and I know she loves me. But there's room in Tara's heart for an awful lot of love – yeah, I know, this sounds mushy to you. But it's true. I want her to be happy and I think you could make her that way." Then she smiled. "Of course, if I were still alive, you wouldn't have a chance in hell, and you know it, missy." I did. Cocky as I was, I knew that for sure.

"I do," I said. "But if it'd make her happier I'd bring you back."

"I think you would," she murmured. "I really do." She straightened up in her chair. "Anyway, I appreciate the offer, but no. That kind of stuff is extremely dangerous. Believe you me, I know that from bitter experience."

"So that's it? You approve, and learn magic?"

"One other thing: you don't need my help to win her over. You're doing a pretty good job of that already." Noticing the grin on my face, she said, "But don't take that as an ironclad vision of the future. You could still screw this up. You're on the right track."

"Any clues as to what that witch is going to find tomorrow when she looks inside Tara?"

"Tara. Just more so. I gave her my raw energy, not my darkness. My darkness . . . well, that's why I'm here."

"Doesn't look so bad."

"It isn't. It's not so good, either. I'm not in heaven or hell."

"Purgatory?"

"Right. You were raised Catholic," she said. I guess that's as good a word as any," Willow said. "I don't know if I'm ever going to move on from here. But it's not so bad. I get to watch my friends on Earth and help them on occasion."

"What do you do the rest of the time?"

"Read, mostly."

Something occurred to me. "So is this a dream or isn't it? And is there anything you want me to pass on to Tara?"

"Anything I want to say to Tara I'll tell her myself," she said. "Don't you worry about that."

"Are you talking to her now?"

"Do you see her around here?"

I shrugged. "How the hell do I know what the dead can do? For all I know you can invade five people's dreams and sing a merry tune at the same time."

"Not much on the singing. Or the dream invasion. This is a one-night only gig." She said, "Anyway, it's time for you to wake up now." She snapped her fingers –

And, by God, I woke up.

You know, that could have gone a whole lot worse . . .


	7. Darkness into Darkness

Disclaimer: Certain parts of this fic are adapted from its predecessor, _A Kiss Before Dying_. In the meantime, Joss Whedon created _Buffy_, and I ain't him.

X X X X X

I thought about my date with Kennedy, and the investigation I'd be going through tomorrow, until I fell asleep.

The date had been fun.

Tomorrow might not be.

I wasn't, you know, necessarily bound by what she said; but I wanted to know, wanted to be sure, that there wasn't anything in me that would lead to what had made Willow use the memory charm on me, and not tell us all the consequences of the spell that brought Buffy back.

I didn't feel different.

But I couldn't be sure.

As for Kennedy:

Well, she'd earned herself that second date. The restraint she was showing, and continued to show, amazed and astonished me.

And it was very flattering.

I didn't feel a spark yet.

But I was going to give her every chance to ignite it.

X X X X X

I dreamed of Willow when I fell asleep.

We were sitting in my dorm room, in Sunnydale, studying a magic book on the bed, with a young Miss Kitty Fantastico playing at our feet.

The first hint I had that I was in a dream was when I looked down at the book and saw that none of the words made sense, and they were all swirling together and trying to crawl up my arm.

Willow jerked my hand back. "Bad idea," she said. "This book, not of the good."

"Then why are we studying it?"

"You have to know what you aren't, to know what you are."

I blinked. "Okay, sweetie, you're coming off less like, like Willow, and more like Yoda."

She grinned. "Yeah. Sorry about that. There are rules about these things that even I have to follow."

"So I'm really talking to you?"

"You really are," she said. "Now look at your arm."

The words from the book -- black, dark, evil -- were trying to come up my arm, but something was stopping them. "You?"

"I have no power here," Willow said. "Not anymore. That's something in you doing that." When I was confused, she said, "Look closer."

There was a face in the book -- a face I'd seen somewhere before, though I couldn't remember where. "Take it," the face said. "Take the power. You want to."

I jerked my hand away. "I, I really don't think I do," and put the book on the edge of the bed, away from both of us. Then I turned to face Willow. "So. How've you been?"

"Dead. You?"

"Red-haired."

"Oh." Then she laughed. "I didn't think that was going to happen. I won't be offended if you dye it back."

"I wouldn't dream of it," I said. "So, is, is there anything you _can_ tell me?"

"I love you."

"And I love you too. But I was thinking, you know, more useful, less sentimental."

"I have to be cryptic on most of the useful stuff," she said. "I can tell you that you're about as dark as a polar bear, though. And this Kennedy chick?"

"Yes?" I asked, a bit nervously.

"Not bad. A bit aggressive for my taste, but I think she grew up in an awful hurry this last year. And now she has something to work for that the big old push push push isn't going to help. I think maybe she might be worthy of you."

"You don't mind?"

"Mind?" she said. "Sweetie, I'm no longer around to mind. I'll always be here, but you need to stop worrying so much about what I would want you to do, and start doing what you would want to do. I'm not coming back. And this place? Not of the horrible, but I don't want you joining me here anytime soon."

"No plans."

"Good. Now for the cryptic stuff, and boy do I wish Angel were here, because he made this look easy. And kind of sexy. That stuff with the book earlier? That was a warning. I can't tell you of what. Also: Someone's going to be coming to visit you in a couple of days. Try to make them welcome."

"Can you tell me who?" She gave me a steady look. "I'm taking it that that's a no?"

"Yeppers," she said. "Sorry."

"Worth a try."

She leaned forward and gave me a quick kiss on the lips. "Yes, it was. And now --" she snapped her fingers.

And I woke up.

X X X X X

I mentioned the dream to Giles the next morning. "Ah," he said. "You too."

"Me too?"

"You are the third individual whom I have talked to this morning who dreamed of Willow. Tell me, were you warned of a threat of some sort?"

"Yes. It seemed to be to me. And a visitor, as well. And, and I don't think they were the same person."

"Odd," he said. "That's the first --" the phone rang. "Hello -- hold on a moment." He turned to me. "Tara? I need to take this privately."

"I understand," I said, and left.

I dashed through breakfast the next morning -- whoever else had had the dream, either I didn't sit with them or they weren't talking -- and ran back upstairs to change.

The witch was due at 10 AM.

By five past, no one had come and I was beginning to worry -- until a gray-haired woman who looked to be a fit fifty came running in. She called out a bit breathlessly, "Tara MacLay?"

"Yes?" I said.

She started walking over. "I'm Kate Gardner. I'm your witch."

Before she could get to me, though, Faith intercepted her. "You say you're a witch?"

"Not in public," Ms. Gardner said. "I don't want people to think I'm crazy."

"Still, I think I speak for all of us when I say, show us the proof."

"Proof?"

"Proof."

"Look down."

As Faith was now floating three feet in the air, this was all the proof she needed. "Okay," she said. "You're a witch. Good enough for me."

"And," came a voice from behind us, "If you'd waited for me I could have confirmed it. Ms. Gardner is indeed the witch we've been waiting for. I apologize for any inconvenience --"

Ms. Gardner laughed. "Inconvenience, hell. I can't blame you folks for being protective given the shit you've been through I resisted the temptation to simply Truthseek the woman. I'd promised to hold back from using my powers, and anyone the head of the most powerful witch coven in England recommended would almost certainly have enough magick to tell if I was reading her. "So, now that everyone's satisfied, we can get to work any time you're ready," Ms. Gardner went on.

"That, that would be now."

"Good. Pick any empty room here and we can get going."

Kennedy peeled away from the other Slayers and followed us up the stairs. "Why are you following us?" Ms. Gardner said.

"I'm going to make sure no one bugs you," she said. I didn't need to read her aura to tell she was lying, but Kate Gardner either didn't notice or didn't care.

"Fine," she said. "But don't come in, no matter what you hear."

Kennedy didn't say anything. I said, "So you're planning to torture me?"

Ms. Gardner said, "Not literally. But the investigation might hurt a bit, mentally speaking. For what it's worth, I'm sorry for that. But to do what's got to be done, I have no choice."

We closed the door. "So," I said. "Do, do you want me to -- aaah!"

She had her hand on the back of my head.

"Now," she said. "Show me your darkness."

X X X X X

We journeyed through a succession of scenes from my childhood. My father, my brother, abusing me verbally, constantly belittling me, telling me I was evil and worthless.

Quit struggling, a voice from inside me said. This is the only way to gauge your darkness.

It all culminated in a replay of the scene at the Magic Box where my "blood kin" had tried to drag me back --and where everyone had backed me up.

Only this time, no one did.

"We certainly can't trust her anymore," Buffy said.

"Sorry, sweetie," Willow said.

I looked at each of their faces in turn, but saw only disappointment, not the love and support I'd gotten the first time around.

I closed my eyes and said, "I'm not going."

"As the song goes," Buffy said, "You can't stay here."

"Donny," my father said. "Bring her."

I turned and ran.

The replay ended, thank the Goddess, and I heard her voice in my head again. That didn't work. Time to work at it a bit more.

We flashed to the time in the hospital -- when I'd finally asked Anya for my vengeance wish. "Ph god. Please. No," he said. "Don't let her do it . . ."

I said, _"_It's, it's a complicated one. Please wait until I'm done." Anya nodded.

"I wish . . . I wish that Warren Mears would feel a thousand tiny pinpricks over each square inch of his body, cycling, for a period of several hours." This wasn't the wish I'd made. "Then I wish that the pain would grow more and more intense -- but that he never once be allowed to scream out in pain. Finally, I wish that all of the skin on his body would get peeled off, slowly, inch by inch, and only when every bit is gone that he be allowed to pass out." I stopped and added. "I want him to suffer."

Anya smiled grimly. "Done."

And as Warren started screaming, I said, "No. It didn't happen this way."

Part of you wanted it to.

"Part is not all."

A mental sigh, then: Time for the big finish, I guess.

I was back in the master bedroom at 1630 Revello Drive.

Willow said, "Whoo! I always said you had me going around in circles, but --"

I tried to move, tried to change things, even knowing how unreal this all was.

I couldn't.

The window shattered.

Blood splattered over the front of my shirt.

"This -- is -- ridicul--" Willow said, then fell to the floor.

And now things changed.

I suddenly began to feel rage.

Murderous rage.

I wanted to kill the person who'd done this to Willow. I wanted to murder them with my bare hands.

I wanted them dead. Painfully.

And I wanted to do it myself.

Give in to the darkness, the voice said.

It was tempting --

My dream.

This was the meaning of my dream.

This wasn't my darkness.

I concentrated and forced it away. Forced the feelings away.

Back to what they'd been:

Justice.

Not vengeance.

This was no test at all.

No, it isn't.

It was time to test my powers. I concentrated --

X X X X X

And found myself back in the hotel room with Kate Gardner's hands no longer touching my head.

I whirled around and saw a grinning young woman with dark reddish-brown hair. I recognized her from somewhere.

With a slight air of insanity, she said, "You're good."

"In more ways than one," I said.

"You really don't have any darkness in you. Or not enough that I could tempt you." She shrugged. "Guess I'll have to do this the hard way. That should be more fun, anyway."

"Sorry to, to disappoint you," I said. "Who the hell are you?"

She said, "You mean Willow never told you of the fun times we had after you dumped her?"

Holy goddess.

This was Amy Madison.


	8. Yonder Window Breaks

I "stood guard" exactly like you would have expected me to stand guard: with one ear to the door. Not on the door, but damn right was I listening in.

For about ten minutes or so, I heard nothing except some muttering -- probably Kate Gardner. I think I would have recognized Tara's voice even through the locked door.

Then there were some heated words, and I heard Tara yell for assistance.

I reared back to kick down the door -- and bounced off it.

I heard the other voice yell, "Nice try."

I didn't waste time. I sprinted to the top of the stairs. "Everyone!" I yelled.

Everyone stopped what they were doing to look at me. I've always had a knack for drawing attention to myself.

Okay, I'm loud. Potato, potahto.

I didn't waste time. "The witch wasn't who she said she was. Tara needs help now."

"How do you know?" Giles said.

"She said so. I heard her through the door. Whoever that Gardner chick is, she's got some kind of shield set up."

Everyone came running up the stairs. Just then, I had an idea, and headed down, grabbing Buffy's. "What?" she said.

"I have an idea," I told her. "Follow me." She hesitated. "Please?"

I don't know if it was the please or if she just had to swallow the idea of following my lead, but she nodded her head. We ran out the front door of the Hyperion into the courtyard. The room Tara and "Kate Gardner" had ended up in

"What's your idea?"

I looked up. "Damn."

"Damn?"

"I thought it was a rule. All hotels had to have ledges. This is going to make this harder." Harder, but not impossible. I was still walking, and Buffy was following me.

Buffy, not being stupid, caught on right away. "You want to go in through the window," she said. "You're right. Without a ledge this is going to require a precision toss."

I stopped under Tara's window. "Yeah, it is," I said. "But if she's in trouble --"

"I'm with you there" she said. "Okay. Give me a boost." My confusion must have showed on my face, because she said, "Not a large target and I'm a bit smaller than you are." She was being businesslike, not insulting.

Still, she was wrong, and holding things up while we fought might give whoever the hell that was inside time to try to hurt Tara. "So you're saying you trust _me _to throw _you?"_

After a second, she said. "Happy landings." I would have taken _that _as an insult if I hadn't been mostly concerned about Tara. She bent down and clasped her hands together. I stepped slightly backwards, heard her quickly say, "One, two, three," and was quickly rocketed upwards.

Whatever else you can say about Buffy Summers, and I can say a lot, she could hit her targets. I stretched out my hands, closed my eyes, and crashed through the window.

Quickly, I rolled to my feet.

Sometimes speed helps. In this case, though, I could have been moving like a snail and it wouldn't have mattered. Neither occupant in the room noticed my entrance.

They were apparently involved in some kind of psychic battle. "Kate Gardner" was nowhere to be seen. In her place was a reddish-haired skinny woman about Tara's age.

Whatever had happened three minutes ago to get Tara to yell for help was over.

I walked towards the door -- and was knocked backwards. Apparently you couldn't get through the door from either direction.

So, what did I do now?

This is why Willow wanted me to learn about magic. If I knew more about it, maybe I'd feel confident about what to do right now. If I knocked out this redhead while she was fighting Tara, I didn't know what would happen. Maybe Tara would be okay, and maybe she'd be knocked out with the redhead.

I went back to look out the window, but Buffy was nowhere to be seen. I could have used someone to talk to about this, but I couldn't really blame her for not sticking around. She probably felt she'd be better off trying to get through the front.

Still. What to do?

Hmmm. Well, if I didn't want to knock the redhead out -- or kill her, though I actually wanted to do both to her for attacking Tara -- that didn't mean there weren't other things I could do. I walked up to her, grabbed her right arm, and forced it up behind her back as hard as I could -- any harder and I'd break it, not that I'd weep over that. But I was trying to cause her pain, not permanent bodily harm.

Not yet, anyway.

I forced the arm up one more inch

Finally, I heard the redhead yell. Tara staggered, took a slight step backwards, and said, "Hand over her mouth!"

She didn't need to tell me twice. As one hand forced her right arm upwards, I clasped the other one over her mouth. She began to struggle, and I said, "Stop it or I'll break your arm." I looked over at Tara. "You okay?"

"Yeah. She was, was trying to make me dark."

"So do you have any idea who this is?"

"Amy Madison."

I blinked. I'd heard about Amy the rat – how she'd led Willow Rosenberg down the garden path into magic addiction, how she tried to lure her back after she'd sworn off witchery for a while – but the last anyone had heard of her, she'd gone to Cleveland.

And now I finally had the displeasure of actually meeting her.

Right then, Faith came into the room through the window. So that's where Buffy had gotten to. "Need any help?" she asked.

I said, "Can you take control for a second?"

Faith shrugged, said, "Sure," and came over and punched Amy Madison in the base of the skull.

She went down in a heap. "Not what I meant," I said without real anger. I should have thought of it myself. Now that there wasn't any chance of it hurting Tara, knocking Amy out only made sense.

Before Faith could answer, the door crashed open. Vi led the way, followed by Giles Everyone looked like they could easily kill the next person they saw, until they figured out that we had the situation under control. "Good Lord." Giles said as he walked in. "Is that --?"

"It, it is," Tara said. "Either that, or a clone."

"Who is that?" Vi asked.

Running up behind everyone, Buffy said, "Amy Madison. Good going," in Faith's and my general direction.

"Don't look at me," Faith said. "Tara and Kenny here had the situation under control by the time I got here. All they needed me for was mop-up."

"What happened?" Xander asked.

"We can save that for a bit later," Buffy said firmly, and for once I agreed with her. "Right now, we need to make sure Tara's okay –"

"I am," Tara said.

"Under the circumstances," Giles said, "I assume you'll forgive us if we don't take your word for it. Vi: Take Miss Madison into one of the other rooms and bind and gag her. Try not to hurt her too much along the way.'

"Are bumps and bruises okay?" Vi asked

"I'm not a medical examiner," Giles said. "But don't break any bones." Vi moved forward and picked up Amy in a fireman's carry, not being particularly careful whether she hit the door, the walls, or pretty much anything else.

Amy should be glad it wasn't me carrying her. She might have slipped as I carried her past the lobby.

"And there's something else we need to look out for," I said as we all started to leave the room.

"What would that be?" Giles asked.

"The real Kate Gardner," I said. "You said yourself that she was the witch who was coming. Sounds like maybe Amy Madison ran into her on the way."

Giles nodded. "Quite right. I'll see if I can contact her, and if I can't, we should probably send out a search party or two." He headed to his room.

Angel and Cordelia were downstairs when we got there. "What happened?" he asked as Xander and Anya herded Tara to a nearby sofa.

"Where were you?" Buffy asked. I moved to stand behind Tara on the sofa.

"This is actually still a business," Angel said. "Cordy and I have been underground trying to track down some leads on a case. You didn't notice we weren't here?"

"Not until the big fight broke out and you didn't show," she said.

"There was a big fight?" he asked.

"Yeah," I said. "And we ended up trashing one of your rooms. Sorry about that, but we had to stop the bitch who was trying to kill Tara."

"Not kill me," Tara said. "Turn, turn me dark."

"Same thing," I said fiercely. "A dark Tara is no Tara at all." She smiled.

"It was Amy Madison," Buffy said.

"You're kidding," Cordelia said.

"I wish to hell I was," Buffy said. "We have her bound and gagged in one of the rooms upstairs."

"I'll pay for the damages," I said.

"That's not important," Angel said. "What's important is everyone's okay and you stopped the bad guy." He looked at Buffy. "You really didn't notice we weren't here?"

Buffy chuckled. "Nope."

Giles walked down the stairs. "Vi informs me that Amy Madison is safely bound, head to toe, and couldn't utter a sound if her life depended on it. Slayers are going to take turns guarding her until we figure out what to do with her."

"I think the lobby of this place could use a few heads," I said.

"Hear hear," Xander said. Angel nodded as well. So did Faith.

Cordelia, for her part, said, "I get the sentiment, but ewww!"

"No," Tara said firmly "Not in cold blood."

Xander said, "Easy, Tara. I wasn't being serious. I doubt Kennedy was, either."

I was -- half, anyway -- but Tara clearly didn't want to hear that right now. I knew she wasn't hot-blooded in that way, like I was -- but I also knew that if Amy had died while they were in the middle of their magic fight, she wouldn't have mourned.

She would have wished things could have gone otherwise. But she wouldn't have mourned.

"Just blowing off steam," I said, hoping she wasn't reading me. "She could have hurt you --"

"She didn't," Tara said. "That's the important thing." Then a slight smile. "But thanks for being concerned."

Amazing how a slight smile can make you warm and tingly all the way down.

I love this woman. Have I said that recently?

"The other important thing," Xander said, "Is how we make her stop trying."

"That too," Tara said firmly. Proof, as if I needed more, that Tara not being inclined to violence didn't mean that she was the least bit soft.

"In any event," Giles said, "That was only one of the two things I had to tell you. The other concerns Kate Gardner. And in this case, at least, the news is good."

"She's not dead?" Anya asked.

"Sweetie, do we need to read the dictionary for the definition of 'good' again?" Xander said.

"Dead could be good news in some cases," Anya said. "Maybe she was experiencing indescribable agonies from being shuttled to a torture dimension. Or maybe she'd just seen an Adam Sandler movie." She paused, then said, "But I can see how that wouldn't be seen as good by most people. Please. Go on."

"She isn't dead," Giles confirmed. "She isn't even injured. She says she got a call from Althenea this morning telling her we'd decided we didn't need her services, and was most put out to find out that someone had been impersonating her. She offered to come over now, but I told her that tomorrow is probably better." Then, to Tara, "Still, next time, read her aura to see who she really is. I doubt, under the circumstances, that she'll complain."

Tara nodded.

"Are you ready to talk about what happened?" Giles said.

"It's not, not a matter of ready," Tara said. "Just of trying to sort it out in my head. Maybe, maybe talking it out will help." She took a deep breath. "Okay. Here's what happened."


	9. I Declare a Mind War

Part 9

First I explained "Kate Gardner's" attempts to force me to show her my darkness.

"Should, should that have worried me?" I said. "Her methods, I mean."

"It isn't a common practice," Giles said. "But there are those, even on the side of good, who prefer the confrontational method to the subtle."

Everyone turned to look at Faith. "What?" she said after a second. "So I ain't one for goin' around when I can go through. It works."

"It wasn't a criticism," Giles said mildly. "And for you it does, indeed, work. Tara: Continue, if you would."

X X X X X

"You're Amy Madison," I said.

"Took you long enough," she said.

"Well, I never actually had the pleasure," I said. "What little pleasure there, you know, seems to be." I didn't ask her what she was doing. I'd already figured out the broad strokes -- instead of seeing whether I had any darkness, she was trying to force some into me.

That had been the meaning of my dream of Willow, when I stopped the book's dark words from crawling up my arm.

"I can be a lot of fun," she said. "Willow knew that."

"Was, was that before or after she broke Dawn's arm?" I asked.

"Before," she said sulkily. "Afterwards she was so concerned with what she'd done and winning you back that she didn't have time for me any more." After a pause, "So, how'd that winning you back thing work out, anyway?"

She was trying to provoke me. I wasn't about to let her. "She died happy," I said.

"And maybe if she'd had her magic, she wouldn't have died," she said.

I said, 'Okay. So how is any of this explaining what you're doing here? Is, is this some kind of bizarre act of revenge? Do you blame me?"

She looked at me as though I was crazy. "Yes. Of course I do. I blame you for all of it. I blame you for Willow not bringing me back sooner. I blame you for driving Rack out of Sunnydale. I blame you for Willow being dead -- the one person who understood what it was like to have this much power, and to know what to do with it. Look at you," she said, laughing. "You've had all this power for a couple of weeks and all you've is done is read a few auras."

"How do you know that?"

"Because I felt the transfer of power."

"From LA?"

"I was in Cleveland. I think there are people in alternate dimensions who felt it when you got all this power. And what do you do with it?"

It goes without saying that she was deranged. Still, even deranged people operated by a kind of internal logic. Hers was telling her that I didn't deserve the power Willow had given me, and that she did.

And since she couldn't force me to embrace a darkness I apparently didn't have, she was going to take the power Willow had given me and embrace it herself.

So really, you see, she was doing me a favor.

"I wait," I said calmly, "Until I'm sure I'm able to use it." Then I yelled, "Kennedy! Help!"

She turned towards the door and gestured, saying "Nice try." A force field popped up. She turned and looked at me. "All that power and you know so little about how to use it that you're calling on someone else for help."

Then, she moved forward and grabbed my forehead.

Why didn't I stop her?

Partly, I was still a little reluctant to use my new power, even under these circumstances. It was kind of like I was the Hulk, only smart, but I wasn't sure how hard I could hit and didn't want to kill someone with one punch.

If I was going to learn, now was the time.

And that was the other reason: She wasn't going to tell me if I asked her outright. This way, while she was trying to invade my head, I could invade hers, and find out exactly what I needed to do to stop her.

Dangerous? Yes. But she was going to try anyway, and I wasn't sure enough even of my telekinesis to risk flinging her across the room.

I didn't want to kill her unless I had no other choice. Even in self-defense.

The first thing she did was take me back, in my head, to when I had Anya curse Warren. But this time, instead of pretending like I'd really cursed him to be in agonizing pain, we went to what really happened.

"So you think you're not dark?" Amy said.

"I'm not," I said. "I have a little -- everyone does. But I'm not tempted to give in to my base desires."

"Really?" as we watched the scene play out; as I wished for Warren to have a conscience, and to think about what he'd done, every single day for the rest of his life. "So you think this isn't dark?"

"He's still alive," I said.

"Alive and suffering," she said. "He's being tortured. Every day he has to relive what he did, to think about it, to, as you so quaintly put it, 'suffer the loss.'"

"So?" I didn't get what she was getting at.

"Are you for or against the death penalty?"

"Against."

"Why?"

"Because I believe it's cruel," I said.

"And making someone relive their crime isn't cruel? Isn't crueler than just getting it overwith and killing them?"

"It, it wouldn't be a punishment if he didn't think what he did was wrong," I said. "Even if I'd made him confess --" and now he was telling the police, in detail, how he'd killed his ex-girlfriend, Katrina; how he and his two friends had used her sexually (in short, how they'd used the power of that hypnotic gem to rape her) -- "If it meant nothing to him, then all he'd do is sit and sulk in jail for the rest of his life about how he didn't get what he wanted, and how Buffy and me had, had made life so bad for him, and how we should have just gotten out of his way."

And anyway, he wasn't reliving his crimes. He was feeling guilty about them.

"So you're imposing your will on someone else, and you don't think it's dark?" She asked.

"All punishment is like that," I said. "But, let, let me accept your argument for a second, that this is really really cruel and mean of me. Why would that make me want to accept my darkness, take on any more, or, or simply give you this power? I know I'm not going to use it for evil or selfish reasons. You, though --"

"Fine," she said. "I've given you every chance. I've tried forcing you, I've tried tricking you, hell, I've even tried reasoning with you. And since that's not working," she said, her eyes going dark, her voice changing, "I'm just going to have to take it."

The odd thing was, I'd thought her conversation about the death penalty and all the darkness she absolutely couldn't believe I didn't have -- her life must really have sucked if she'd never run across anyone who was mostly light --

X X X X X

"She knew us for a while," Buffy said, interrupting me. "For a few years, I would have even said we were friends. Or at least friendly. She knew about the supernatural. She sat with us every once in a while at lunch."

"I even asked for her opinion on a couple of magical matters," Giles said. "She was unfailingly helpful."

"You needed help, Giles?" Xander asked.

"On matters of practical magic, occasionally, yes," he said. "I can cast many spells, but there are certain things that witches might notice that I might not. Rumors to the contrary, I am not, in fact, omniscient."

"Well, yeah," Buffy said. "I kinda picked up on that the second I saw the tweed."

"Are you ever going to cease running that joke into the ground?"

"Not in my lifetime," Buffy said. "Anyway, what I'm saying is, check our auras."

I did, quickly, and got her point. For all that Buffy's power came, ultimately, from a demonic source, she was fairly light. Xander was a bit darker, but not overly so. Even Giles' aura, though darker than Buffy's or Xander's, was nowhere close to the inky blackness of Amy Madison's.

Amy's had also had a strong overlay of genuine insanity. I suppose being a rat for years could do that to a person, but she had to have been partly deranged in the first place to go to someone like Rack.

It's what they're worried about. It's the reason I agreed to tone down my magic use until someone examined me. Willow got powerful, and went dark. Amy Madison, and her mother, for that matter, did the same thing.

Magic corrupts, so the theory goes. And absolute magic corrupts absolutely.

I will be the counterexample to that.

Parenthetically, at some point, I think it might be a good idea to track Rack down and stop him. I thought of doing it in Sunnydale a couple of weeks after Warren shot Willow and Buffy, but he'd cleared out of town. Smart of him. Still, he couldn't be allowed to keep "pushing" forever.

A note on auras: Even back before Willow gave me her power, it wasn't as though I saw auras as simply on the scale from black to white. I could also read someone's general emotional state. I couldn't always tell when they were lying, but a massive deception -- as when Faith switched bodies with Buffy -- that, I could spot. Still, the difference between what I could do then and what I can do now is like the difference between reading a five-page article on the life of a president, and a five hundred page biography.

"I get what you mean," I told Buffy.

"Good," Anya said. "Explain it to the rest of us." Her aura was darker than anyone else's in the room. Even Faith and Angel's auras were bright and sunny, by comparison.

Kennedy also asked for an explanation. Her aura -- and I shut off reading before I got more than a glimpse -- was fairly light, but she was very, concerned about me.

Of course, I didn't need to read auras to be able to tell that.

I explained what Buffy had meant, then got back to my story.

X X X X X

Anyway, that's what I was thinking at the time -- that her life must have sucked. I know how bad her mom was, for instance.

So now, we fought.

And the strange thing was, while we were fighting this magical psychic battle -- yes, Xander, I know, "That's not the strange thing?" No, it isn't -- we were acting just like we would if we were fighting it in the real world.

The only difference was where we were fighting it. We were back in Sunnydale. On the college campus.

First she tried twice to change me into an animal. I'm not sure what would have happened if she'd pulled it off. It's possible right now you'd be talking to a me who had the mind of a rat.

Still, it didn't work, because, you know, I'm actually able to talk to you. Everything I knew of Amy Madison said that this was the maneuver she'd try first. Maybe it was her first major spell, I'm not sure, but I was ready for it.

I wasn't quite ready to fight back yet. For the moment, I stuck with defending myself, because I was still trying to figure out how strong she was.

Then it was some other kind of transformation spell. I'm not sure what she was trying to change me into; she invoked the god Neptune, so maybe a fish? I wasn't sure.

I deflected them as well.

Then the earth itself tried to swallow me. Telekinesis sent the dirt flying out in all directions.

This was making her mad, because next she, by all appearances, gave up being subtle. A jet of fire shot from her hands right at me. I don't know if she can do that in real life -- I've never seen a witch who could. Maybe she was a fan of _Charmed_. Anyway, I dodged it.

She wasn't completely consumed by anger, though she was pretending to be. While I was dodging the fire, she was sending darkness towards me on the floor, from the bookshelves.

Bookshelves? Now we were in the Magic Box. I concentrated, and the darkness -- exploded? I'm not quite sure how to explain it. It was like it became little shreds of confetti, which dissolved in mid-air.

I thought for a second, setting up a shield.

She wasn't picking times and places that would have disturbed me --

No. She wasn't picking these times and places at all. She'd never been to the campus of UC-Sunnydale, or the Magic Box, as far as I knew, except in rat form.

So she was taking them from my head.

She'd taken everything, except the darkness, from my head. When she was pretending to be Kate Gardner, when she was trying to convince me, and now when she was outright attacking me.

Anyway, I now thought I had her measure. She was powerful. She might have been the second most powerful witch in North America.

I was more powerful.

"Okay," I said. "Let's get one thing straight."

"What's that?"

"My head, my rules. Rule number one is --" she set up to cast another spell -- "In my head, you don't do magic."

The spell died.

"You think that'll work?" she said. "I still set this up. And as long as that shield is blocking the door, and you and I are trapped in your head, we're not going anywhere."

"Until I give in, or I kill you, or you kill me?"

She grinned. "Just like that," she said.

"I can wait. Because, you know, I had someone on the other side of that door who likes me. And they're going to get other people who like me. And they're going to come in here and figure out a way to break me out of this." Then I sat down.

X X X X X

"And that's what I did, until she started yelling in pain," I said. "A few seconds later, she broke the spell, and you all know what happened after that."

"Doesn't sound like you had much to worry about," Angel said.

"Then, then I told it wrong," I said. "Because, while I may have this power, I wasn't at all sure I could block hers the way I did. I knew the first two attacks were coming. Everything else I just blocked or dodged as it came. Maybe it was because we were fighting psychically. I'm not sure. I won't know for sure unless she tries in real life and now, thanks to Kennedy and Faith, she's not going to be able to."

I smiled at each of them in turn. Faith grinned back, saying, "Happy to help. Kenny's idea, busting in through the window like that."

"Well then," I said. "Thanks. For using your head."

Kennedy grinned at Faith, then back at me, looking as happy as I've ever seen her.

Once again, I know Jacqueline Olivierez Kennedy is not exactly a woman lacking in self-confidence. So she must really be happy that I think she did a good job.

I moved to stand up. Giles said, "Are you sure?"

"Yes. I'm fine. She didn't physically hurt me. Kennedy."

"Yeah?"

"I think I need to get out of here for a bit. Any chance we could do that second date now?"

"You sure?"

"Do you want me to change my mind?" I asked.

"No."

"Then let's go."


	10. Blood, Purgatory, Sex, Magick

Author's note: In a couple of chapters I'm going to fast forward to Warren, MD, as soon as I've taken care of Amy and . . . one other.

Disclaimer: Joss owns all but the plotline.

X X X X X

To say that I was surprised when Tara asked me out on the second date would definitely be an understatement. To have it happen so soon after the first one –

Well, I understood her reasons for wanting to get away from the hotel and Amy Madison for a while.

She hadn't had to make it a date, though. I would have gone with her either way, unless she specifically asked me not to. That she was willing to make it the second one –

Well, either she was stressed, or she was interested. I'd leave it up to the conversation to determine which. I still wasn't going to be high-pressure about the situation.

It's hard, sometimes, not to just charge in, announce my intentions, and leave it up to her what to do next. It's worked for me in the past – well, it worked more than half the time. You'd be surprised how many people like not to be the aggressor. But when I failed in the past, it was always with someone I simply thought was attractive and wanted to get to know better.

With Tara, things were different. Already being in love with her – more and more every day – changed things around. Aggression with someone you wanted to get to know better might lead to mild disappointment if it didn't work. With someone you were already in love with –

It could break your heart. And much as I like to be brash, bratty Kennedy, pretending I don't care what people think of me, I make an exception for some people.

Tara MacLay is definitely one of them.

As we walked out of the front doors of the Hyperion, Wesley Wyndham-Price was looking at the broken window. "What happened?"

"Witch attack," I said. "You'll get more details inside. Tara and me are headed out for an early lunch."

He blinked. "At 10:30 in the morning?"

"I did say early," I said.

"Right. So you did," he said, and went inside.

"So," I said, "Where to?"

"There, there was a game Willow and Buffy liked to play. It was called, 'Anywhere but here.'"

"Cool. I've always wanted to see what my Slayer powers could do against some hardcore LA gangbangers." I interlocked my hands and cracked my knuckles.

She looked at me, then laughed. "Okay. Almost anywhere. Are you really hungry?"

"I'm a Slayer," I said.

"Of, of course. I think maybe what we need to do is, is find one of those places that serves 72-ounce steaks that you get free if you eat it all. That, that might save us some money."

That sounded good. "Is there anywhere in LA like that?"

She laughed again. "I'll look it up when we get home," she said. "But we're only going to get in once, you know, then they'll bar us at the door."

Grinning, I said, "One trip is all we'll need." After a minute or so of friendly silence, I said, "So. Amy Madison?"

"I told you about her."

"Some of it," I said.

"Well, you, you have to remember, I never actually met her, and I only ever knew her as this amoral sociopath who lured Willow to Rack's, and cast a spell on her during that time she was trying to go cold turkey from magic. So my opinions would not exactly be what you'd call balanced."

"She just tried to make you evil, steal your magic, and maybe kill you," I said. "I'm not interested in fair and balanced. You can be as fair and balanced as Fox News is, for all I care. Give me the propaganda. But if she's going to be a problem for us," and I tried to say us like I was taking in everyone, not just Tara and me, "I think I might want to know more."

"Well, some of this you're getting secondhand," she said as we rounded a corner. "But here's what I know."

We walked and talked for about fifteen minutes while Tara gave me everything she knew about Amy Madison, stopping every five minutes to remind me that she didn't know everything, and I should really be going to the source.

She's so adorable when she hedges like that.

But then, she's adorable pretty much anytime. Although I may be biased in that regard.

Anyway, she was clearly furious with Amy, and with Rack, and even with Catherine Madison, a woman I was hearing about third-hand but whose influence on her daughter had been more than just an ability to do magic -- but Rack was the only one she was planning to 'take down," if necessary. Even now, she was going to try to cure Amy of her insanity, not take any kind of revenge. She also told me I'd better not do anything on my own, either.

She knew me too well. I don't know if I would have carried it through, but I was sure as hell thinking about beating the living hell out of that bitch for what she did. (I wasn't alone in that feeling, I know. Vi had been the one to carry Amy through the hallways, and remember, she was taking special pains to make sure she smacked Amy's head and feet against pretty much anything nearby. I'd been surprised Vi was there -- normally, she's been spending a lot of the day at the hospital while Rona recovered -- but the other Slayers finally confronted her and told her that Rona was their friend too, and maybe she'd like a day off?)

From there we moved onto more general topics.

Around 11, we found a vegetarian restaurant -- Isaac's -- that was just changing over from breakfast to lunch. I'm no vegetarian, but I can appreciate a change of pace every once in a while. Slayers may have different tastes, but the most important thing for us is quantity, not quality.

We were the first ones in. I ordered a pair of vegetarian reubens and some potato chips; Tara had a salad and some kind of garlic toast. We kept talking.

"So," I said. "I have a favor to ask you."

"This is only the second date," she said. "I believe the rule is three."

My jaw dropped. Had Tara MacLay just made a sex joke?

The smile, and then laugh, said the answer was, hell, yes, she'd just made a sex joke. It was vague and non-explicit, but it was definitely a sex joke "I've just done something no one else has ever been able to do," she said. "Find a way to keep Kennedy quiet for more than ten seconds." I stuck out my tongue. "Did that hurt?" she said.

"Did what hurt? Oh. The piercing. Yeah, at first. Now I barely remember it's there. Why?"

"Just curious," she said. "I've never seen one up close before, is all." If I have my way you're going to be seeing it a lot more closely, I thought but didn't say.

And feeling it. But we don't need to go there yet.

Down, fantasies. Down, I say.

"And then there was that favor I wanted to you," I said. "Seriously."

"Seriously. Okay." She wiped her hand across her mouth, and her grin disappeared and was replaced with a frown.

I laughed again. "Dammit, Tara," I said. "How am I going to ask you if you keep making me laugh?"

She nodded and said, "Okay. Go."

"I want to learn about magic. Not to cast it or anything – I'm guessing that if everyone could cast it, more people would –"

"There are, are some spells anyone can cast," she said. "Ritual magic rather than Wicca. Giles knows a lot about these."

"But there are some only witches can cast," I said.

"Yes. Almost everyone has a certain amount of magic in them – unless someone's completely magic-null, they can learn a couple of basics. Why the, the interest?"

Decision time. I was assuming she wasn't examining my aura; she told me so, and I can't see Tara going back on her word barring a new apocalypse.

Part of me wanted her to think it was my idea; that I was giving up my distaste for it just for her. And while there is some truth to that, I can't pretend there's nothing selfish about it. I also can't pretend I'm not doing it because someone else said so.

Much as I might want to. The way to Tara's heart is not by lying to her. I took a deep breath and said, "Willow told me to."

She stiffened, just slightly. "She did?"

"Last night," I said. "I dreamed that I was talking to her. She said that if I wanted to 'pursue' you, then I should learn something about magic, because it's such a big part of your life. It's a good idea and I'm kicking myself that it took a visit from her to point it out to me – " she was sniffling a little bit. Damn. Tell me I didn't make her sad.

Then she smiled. "She's looking out for me in, in so many ways," she said. Whew. She was crying happy. Then she explained the dream she'd had last night. Apparently Willow had been busy.

"Someone else?" I said. "Any hints who?"

"She didn't seem to be able to hint," she said. "I, I don't think it was a reference to Amy, though." Tara was probably alone in thinking she could save Amy. No one else in the room had seemed to think she was worth rescuing.

I tended to agree with them. But I wouldn't bet against Tara. After Willow was killed, she held things together long enough to stop anyone else from going after Warren Mears; she saved Buffy's life; and she stopped Warren from killing Buffy.

Tough chick. _Damn_ tough chick.

"So, did she threaten to beat you to death with a shovel if you hurt me?" Tara asked.

"She might have, but Dawn already took care of that."

"Do you believe her?"

"I believe she'll try," I said. And I did. I didn't believe she'd succeed, for the simple reason that I'm a Slayer, and she isn't. But on the off chance I hurt Tara, I'd take to wearing hardhats for a while.

"I wouldn't count her out from actually being able to do it," she said. "Was that what your dream was about?"

"The magic, and where she was, and you," I said.

"Where is she?"

"How familiar are you with Catholic doctrine?" I asked.

She thought for a second. "Not very, really. The MacLays were phony fundamentalists, so the only thing they said about Catholics is that they were, were going to Hell, like everyone else was, and like I was, if I didn't do exactly what they said."

My fists clenched in anger again. I may not tell her about it, I may never tell her about it, but one of these days I would catch up with the MacLay family and beat the holy hell out of every male member within reach, and you can read male member any damn way you want to. Forcing myself to calm down, I said, "Okay. Do you know what Purgatory is?"

"Another word for Hell, I always thought," she said.

"That's the way it's used sometimes, but Purgatory is actually that place between Heaven and Hell. It's where the repentant sinners end up. God makes them do penance for however long it takes them to cleanse themselves. When they're done, they go to Heaven."

"And Willow was there?"

"Actually, she said it was 'as good a word as any.' Purgatory was my word."

"No suffering?"

"She said most of what she did in her off time was read. She was -- I think it was that magic store Giles used to own. She seemed calm enough. I think her penance is helping us."

"And that, that's something she would have wanted to do anyway."

Right then, our food came. We stopped talking for a few minutes while I ate the first veggie reuben. Very, _very_ good. Take away the corned beef from a normal reuben and replace it with mushrooms.

When I put the last bite in my mouth, I noticed Tara looking at me. "Did you even inhale? Because, I swear, it looked like you took that whole sandwich in in one bite. Maybe two."

"Any chance you found it sexy?" I asked.

"There may be things you do I'd find sexy," she said. "Your ability to eat a sandwich in two bites isn't one of them."

"There are other things I can do with my mouth," I said. It just slipped out. I swear.

"Such, such as putting your foot in it?" Tara said. I must have looked scared, because she said, "Relax. You wouldn't be you if you didn't occasionally push things. So far, actually, I have to say, I've admired your restraint."

"I've been afraid that pushing things too far would drive you away."

"I appreciate that," Tara said. "But you have to, you know, relax a little. I'm not going to tell you to go away if you slip up a little. That you're making the effort is the important thing."

We finished the meal, paid, and left.

X X X X X

We talked about magic for a bit on the way back. Tara said that if I wanted to learn about it in general, Giles would be better suited to teach me. And I saw her point, much as the prospect of spending more time alone with her appealed to me. Giles had been trained as a teacher. I'd ask him if he could spare me a couple of hours.

From there we moved on to more general topics: movie, TV, other mystery novels. As we were talking about which Marcia Muller I should read next, I noticed something. "Keep your pace," I said. "We're being followed."

"Really?"

"Yeah. We have been since we left the restaurant."

We kept walking. "Any sense of what it is?"

"Not a vampire, obviously, and not a demon. I'm not sure."

She closed her eyes. "I see his aura. Whoever it is, isn't evil."

"So I won't kill him," I said. "I'll just ask him a few questions. Turn into the next alley."

We did so. Tara walked a bit further down the alley, and I flattened my self against the wall.

The man -- looked human enough -- walked around the corned about thirty seconds later. I grabbed him, picked him up, and mashed him against the wall. "Okay," I said. "Who are you and why are you following us?"

But, to my surprise, it was Tara who answered. "Put him down. I recognize him."

"Harmless?" I said.

"Mostly," was her response.

I stepped back. The man looked between me and Tara and said, "Good reflexes. New Slayer?"

"One of them," Tara said. "Remember when I told you Willow said she brought in some other help? This is him. Kennedy, meet Oz."


	11. Wolf in the Fold

Disclaimer: Joss owns all characters mentioned herein except for Kate Gardner. I own the plotline and the AU.

X X X X X

On one level, I was surprised to see Oz. He'd come to Willow's funeral late last year, but we'd barely spoken a handful of sentences to each other. For all that he was now in control of his wolf – and I never saw so much as a hint of fur the entire time he was in town – he still didn't seem to like me.

It was all on him as far as I was concerned, though I didn't really blame him. He'd left Willow after losing control around another werewolf, eventually killing this wolf; and while he may have thought he had the noblest of motives for doing so, the point is that he left. And he had apparently expected Willow to be waiting for him when he got back. Whether that was part of his wolf nature or his own I didn't know. But when he found out that Willow and I had gotten together while he was off trying to find himself, he lost control and tried to kill me.

I've forgiven him for that. But I'm still uneasy around him, and I'm sure it can't be much better for him, either.

I asked Kennedy, "Do, do you need any backstory?"

Oz said, "I dated Willow before Tara did. I'm also a werewolf."

"That's enough for now," Kennedy said, with a tone indicating that she wanted the longer story later. "But – Willow dated guys?"

"Just me," Oz said. "And I'd prefer not to talk about that part of my life."

"When did you get into town?" I asked, trying to change the subject.

"Pretty much now," he said. "Wasn't sure where the Hyperion was so when I saw you thought I'd follow you back." After a second, "Slayer sense. Should've remembered."

"Who's been keeping you up to date?"

"Willow. I had a dream. Said you needed my help, asked me to come." He shrugged. "Never been able to say no to her. Even in my dreams."

Kennedy said, "So why did you follow us?"

Oz said, "This is where my human and my wolf conflict. Part of me still sees Tara as the person who stole Willow from me. I was trying to avoid interaction. Again, forgot about those Slayer senses."

"You don't seem to be having any problems right now," Kennedy said.

"Tight control," Oz said. "Being uncomfortable, I can deal with. I'd just rather not." After a second, he added, "Still, Willow asked me to," as though that were the answer to all the problems in the world.

Maybe it was.

"She, she did mention 'someone' might be coming," I said. "But she said you'd be here in a few days."

He shrugged. "Had nothing else to do. And I was only in San Diego. Was waiting to see if maybe I might be needed to help with Sunnydale. I wasn't."

"Tara here pulled off an amazing spell in the clutch," Kennedy said. "Nearly killed her and she went ahead and did it anyway."

Oz said, "Impressive."

We walked more or less in silence back to the Hyperion. Check that. I walked in silence. Oz tried to walk in silence. Kennedy asked a lot of questions. Kind of an awkward end to the date, but there wasn't much to be done about that. I'd enjoyed myself I'd even managed to flirt a little, although awkwardly. It's a lot easier to flirt with someone who knows your every move. Willow appreciated subtle, for the most part – knowing looks, touched, and so on. The occasional "don't get used to those clothes" didn't make a dent. Kennedy, though, I suspected, would prefer being less subtle. Not "I will club you over the head and drag you back to my cave," but knowing winks and glances wouldn't do it for her.

Not that I was up to that, yet. (Does that mean I would be?) But I was relaxed enough to tease her a little.

Apparently, Kennedy had never encountered a werewolf before and wasn't about to let the opportunity go without pumping one for information. For his part, Oz didn't seem offended by Kennedy's having slammed him into a wall. But, from what I knew about him, he wouldn't be.

I was his one real weak spot.

"So, there are others like you out there?" she asked.

"I'm not the only werewolf," Oz said.

Kennedy grinned and said, "That's not what I meant. I meant, werewolves who can control themselves."

"More than you think," he said. "There's kind of a loose brotherhood. And sisterhood. Don't mean to be sexist. There are those who go out and kill and maim people. They tend to draw a lot of attention." Then he asked, "Have you ever killed a werewolf?"

"I've only been a Slayer for a month," Kennedy said. "So, no. My Watcher taught me to watch one if I saw it – and to only kill it if it attacked me, someone else, or people's pets or livestock."

Oz nodded. "Good. When we see one doing something like that, we're supposed to give them one chance to reform. If they don't, we kill them."

She said, "You kill them?"

"I don't like it. But we don't have a jail, and no human court would hold them. I've never done it, myself. Managed to reform a couple."

When we got back to the Hyperion, people were surprised to see Oz.

Most people. Giles was simply slowly nodding his head. While everyone else crowded around the werewolf, I went over to Giles. "You knew."

"He called me this morning," he said. "I confess I wasn't expecting him to come in with you. He mentioned –"

"Having a dream like Kennedy's and mine," I said. "He said that. I get the impression he wouldn't have come if Willow hadn't asked."

"Oz, at his finest, was never a very social person," Giles said. "He was never unfriendly, and he was able to interact well when the situation called for it. But he was far more comfortable being alone. Or –"

"Or with Willow. We, we've already danced around that."

"Apparently she saw something untoward happening in his future if he remained – a lone wolf, as it were. So she convinced him to join us. I would have told you sooner, but with all the trouble we had with Amy Madison, there really wasn't time."

"I'm not worried," I said. "Speaking of –"

"She's awake and unhappy, but as she is bound so tightly that she cannot so much as scratch her nose, she's been unable to do anything about it. I was planning to interrogate her but thought it would be wise to avoid doing so until you'd returned. I have no idea what she's capable of by simply opening her mouth, but I have no desire to find myself in the rodent form that she always seemed so fond of."

"I'll help you," I said. "Just let me go back and talk to Kennedy for a few minutes. Our date ended, well, abruptly, when Oz showed up."

He nodded. "I'm hardly rushing you," he said. "Still, sometime before the end of the day would be preferable."

"I'll let you know," I said. "Just to be on the safe side, in the meantime, don't let anyone take off her gag or, or remove those ropes, for any reason, including having to go the bathroom. She, she can pee in her pants if she has to."

"Are you capable of restraining her when we do remove the gag?"

He meant, would I violate my self-imposed rule on not using any magic except telekinesis or aura-reading. . "In the interests of stopping your impending rodent hood, I think I can manage," I said. "Though you'd probably make a cute rat."

"I have no desire to find out," he said. "Let me know when you're ready. On a completely unrelated note, Riley Finn finally called us back."

It took me a second to put two and two together and get the four I needed to get to. "About Faith."

"Exactly. They were unable to convince the LA District Attorney's office to stop looking for her, so they've done the next best thing. Created a new identity for her."

"This is good."

"Yes, though there was some Godfather-type negotiating." At my puzzled look, he said, in an atrocious Marlon Brando accent, "At some point in the future I may ask you to do me a favor. When I do, I expect the answer to be yes." I winced. "I wasn't that horrible."

"Let's just say that if the world had to depend on your talents as an impersonator, we'd be, um, doomed. But I get the idea."

"They know that the Slayers are not a hit squad," Giles said. "That's the important thing. Also, Faith has a favor to ask you."

Leaving Giles, I threaded my way through the crowd surrounding Oz -- he was being introduced to some of the other Slayers as well. Most of them were interested; some were bored. Vi's reaction was --

Well. I didn't need to read her aura to gauge her reaction. She was fascinated. And I don't think it was because of the scintillating conversation. It was good to see her relaxing again. Rona was finally due to get out of the hospital tomorrow; by a coincidence, so was Robin Wood.

Everyone else had been out for at least two weeks. Once we were all together, we could start spreading out. Faith and Robin, and a handful of other Slayers, would go to Cleveland; Wesley, Kate Lockley and a few others would stay here; and most of us would head to Warren, MD. Over the last couple of weeks, Giles had shaken the money free from the Watcher's Council and bought the former nursing home in Baltimore. Belle Baker -- the Baltimore agent who'd found the property -- was also supervising some early repair work. Not the normal job of a real estate agent, but once we found someone we trusted, we wanted to stick with them. She had no problem taking the extra money, and she owned the company, so she didn't have to get anyone else's approval.

Thinking about auras, though: I should have read 'Kate Gardner's' when she walked in. Just to be sure, I checked Oz. And only Oz. His aura was mostly light. His wolf hung over him like a shadow, but there was nothing inherently evil about it.

Then I shut it down. This power is not something I plan on using routinely. Like I said: I will be the exception.

I do not have absolute power. But Willow may have given me the next best thing.

Kennedy had gotten kind of lost in the tumult. I grabbed her by the hand and took her into Angel's office. Angel, Cordelia and Wesley were among those out there surrounding Oz, so we had the room to ourselves.

"Not the end to our second date that you had in mind, was it?" I asked.

"Not really," Kennedy said. "I don't have a problem meeting Oz -- he's a big part of the Scooby past."

"And, and the future, apparently," I said.

"Sure. It was kind of neat to meet my first werewolf. And apart from the fact that he seems not to like you, he seems cool enough. Of course, that's enough to mean I hate his guts."

"You don't have to," I said.

"Yeah. I think I do," She said. "There're enough people out there who seem to be acting like he can walk on water. I think he can do with a couple who don't."

"He is basically a good guy," I said.

"Far as I'm concerned, he has to prove it," she said. "Now," she said, taking my hand. "About ending our date."

She leaned forward as if to kiss me.

A split second before our lips met, there was a knock at the door. Kennedy growled. I said, "Yes?"

Faith came in. When she saw Kennedy and me, she swore. "Shit. Sorry, Tara. Sorry, Kenny. Shoulda known you'd come in here to get away from the howling mob."

As she turned to leave, I said, "Hold on. Giles said you had a favor to ask me."

"Yeah," Faith said. "Sure you wanna hear it now?"

"You're here, it's quiet," I said. "Go ahead."

"Okay." After a second or so, I realized something: Faith was nervous.

Faith, whose attitude towards subtle made Kennedy look Machiavellian, was nervous about asking me something. "Go ahead," I said.

"Well," Faith said, "You know how the G-Man got the beefcake to dummy me up a new ID. Well, they gave me the same first name but told me I could have any last name I wanted. And, well, I was hoping you wouldn't mind if I took the name Rosenberg."


End file.
